


The Lost Colony

by Joolz



Category: Numb3rs, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, April Showers Challenge, Crossover, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-15
Updated: 2006-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joolz/pseuds/Joolz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stargate Atlantis / Numb3rs crossover.  In the Pegasus Galaxy they’ve found a puzzle that only one man can solve.  The Eppes brothers go traveling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Colony

Rodney slid the stack of 9X12 photos down the table so that everyone could reach one. Or ten. They all looked the same at first glance, except they weren't. Over a hundred photos and no two alike, and that covered only a small portion of the original subject.

Each photo showed columns of four-glyph sets. At the side of each was a wooden ruler showing the dimensions of the figures as about one inch tall. They were from a ten foot high wall that ran around a outside of a chamber the size of a football field. The entire wall was covered in glyphs that didn't resemble any script they knew.

Elizabeth Weir frowned at the photo before her and asked, "So have you determined what they mean yet?"

Rodney barked, "Ha! Good one. Yes, yes, of course I decrypted the code over dinner. It's the complete works of William Shakespeare."

Visibly drawing on her patience, she tried again. "Well what can you tell us, Rodney?"

Leaning back in his chair, the scientist grumbled, "No more than we already knew. From the plaque by the entryway we know that the room was left by a group of Ancients who didn't escape to Earth or ascend when driven out of Atlantis. They hid themselves on some planet and covered all tracks, using their technology to become invisible to Wraith and humans alike. They were willing to be found by a civilization advanced enough to be able to crack the code they left in this structure, which contains instructions or directions on how to find their world. They were apparently convinced that the Wraith would not fall into that category. Unfortunately, it would appear that we don't either. I got nothing."

Sheppard cocked his head. "Come on, Rodney. You aren't giving up, are you? This is a lost colony of Ancients we're talking about. I'd expect you to keep at it until you figured it out."

McKay glared at him. "Thank you very much for your confidence, and it isn't misplaced. I probably could figure it out. All I'd need is access to 100% of Atlantis' data base and computing systems and to work full time on the project for the next, oh, five years or so. I could do that. Or I could, I don't know, deal with the small matter of keeping us alive on a daily basis."

Dr. Beckett ventured, "We all know you can do almost anything, Rodney, but could it be that you're not the right man for this particular job? This sounds much like Dr. Jackson's quest to find the lost city of the Ancients, which ultimately led us here. It seems to me that maybe this is a job for the linguists rather than the hard science department."

"And you would be wrong," McKay informed him loftily. "That would be the case if this were a language. It isn't, it's a code. An extremely complex and obviously extensive cipher. It has more in common with mathematics than it does with words. Once the code is broken, linguistics might play a part, but not at this stage."

Weir asked, "So are you saying we should just give up on it?"

"Not at all."

Sheppard said, "Before we go devoting the rest of our lives to this, maybe we should ask ourselves if it's worth it. These may be Ancients, but they've happily hidden themselves away in safety for the last ten thousand years. What makes us think they'd be willing to help now?"

Teyla inclined her head in agreement. "The colonel makes a good point. They have stood aside while the Wraith culled the populations of many planets. If they could do this with equanimity, then they are clearly a most selfish and uncaring people."

McKay looked around the room. "We can't assume that they wouldn't help. We'll have to ask them when we find them. Whether they are willing to become directly involved or not, just think of the technological advances they may have made over ten thousand years. Even if they were only willing to share a small part of it, it could provide a way of defeating the Wraith once and for all. We won't know until we get there."

Brow furrowed in confusion, Elizabeth said, "But I thought you said we couldn't decipher the code with less than five years of dedicated effort."

"I said that we couldn't. I didn't say that nobody could."

"Get to the point, McKay," Sheppard urged impatiently. "What are you trying to say?"

Rodney answered lightly, "In this case, Carson is actually right. I'm not the best person for this job. While I myself may be something of a Renaissance man, having extraordinary abilities in a number of complementary fields, there are people on Earth who have specialized so that their aptitudes exceed my own in certain areas."

Sheppard sat up in mock amazement. "No!"

"Yes, I know it's difficult to imagine, but true," Rodney nodded sympathetically. "I propose that we bring one such expert here to take on the task. The right person could have this solved in a fraction of the time. We have to find out where the Lost Colony is. We can't afford to let this opportunity pass just because it's difficult."

Weir nodded. "I'm inclined to agree with you on that. We need to find these Ancients before we can evaluate their potential as allies, and I believe it needs to be a top priority. This could give us the edge we've been looking for. I take it, Rodney, that you have someone in mind?"

"I do. There's a professor of Applied Mathematics at CalSci who has one of the finest minds on Earth, or possibly anywhere in two galaxies. He's done work for the government before, if I remember correctly."

Elizabeth looked interested. "I'll ask General Landry to approach him. The General can be very persuasive when he needs to be. What's this math genius' name?"

"Dr. Charles Eppes."

~~**~~

 

Charlie was organizing lesson plans for the coming semester when someone knocked on his door. "Dr. Eppes?" a woman's voice asked.

Looking up, Charlie found a tall, beautiful blonde in an incongruously severe Air Force dress uniform standing in the doorway.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Eppes. Can I help you?"

"I believe you can." She stepped into the room. "I'm Dr. Samantha Carter, Lieutenant Colonel. Do you mind if I close the door while we talk?"

"Not at all. Please have a seat."

Charlie was used to dealing with classified government information and expected that this would be another recruitment pitch. This woman was by far the most attractive functionary to approach him yet.

She sat on the chair in front of his desk, the one his brother tended to lounge on after a long day. Dr. Carter had perfect posture.

"Dr. Eppes, I'll get right to the point. I have a proposition for you. We need your help on a very important project."

Charlie nodded. "I thought that might be it. Go ahead and tell me about it, and please call me Charlie."

The woman smiled. "I'd be glad to, Charlie, if you'll call me Sam."

He smiled back and confirmed, "Sam."

"When I say that this is about an important project, I don't mean in the normal sense. I'm talking about an extensive covert program that is the single most top secret operation the United States government has ever carried out. What I'm about to tell you can't leave this room."

Charlie raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I've consulted with the NSA, the CDC, the FBI, and a few other agencies. My security clearance is about as high as it gets."

"Yes, I know. That's why I'm able to speak with you with a simple reminder that your existing non-disclosure agreement applies to this as well. You'll understand why the secrecy in a moment."

Charlie nodded, signaling for her to continue.

"Do you recognize the name Dr. Rodney McKay?"

After thinking for a moment Charlie said, "I've met him a couple of times. He's a well-known astrophysicist and a friend of my colleague Larry Fleinhardt. Well, to say he's a friend might be going a bit too far. I get the impression that Dr. McKay isn't an easy man to spend time with."

The colonel smirked. "I see you have met him. It seems you made quite an impression on him, which is hard to do. He says that you're the only person who can do what we need."

"And what would that be, exactly?"

Sam took a deep breath. "Do you know anything about wormhole physics?"

~~**~~

 

Charlie sat back and tried to take in what Dr. Carter, who turned out to be an astrophysicist herself, had told him. An ancient device, built by a race rather obviously called 'The Ancients', that created stable wormholes connected to similar devices on other planets and allowed two-way travel. Alien parasitical overlords and slave armies. The lost city of Atlantis, in another galaxy. And here he thought the most challenging thing he would have to do that day would be to figure out when to set his office hours.

He said, "Let me see if I understand. An alien race left code on an obscure planet in the Pegasus Galaxy, and you want me to go there to analyze it?"

"That's right."

"You want me to go there?" Cold sweat broke out down his back. This wasn't just a trip to D.C. or Munich. This meant leaving everything and everyone farther behind than he could even imagine.

Seeing his hesitation, Sam reached into her briefcase and then handed him a photo. "Take a look at this."

The symbols in the photo caught his interest immediately. His mind automatically began sorting, categorizing, scanning for patterns.

"Charlie? Dr. Eppes?"

"Huh?" His head snapped up and he looked at the woman who had probably been trying to get his attention for some time. He asked, "Do you have more like this?"

She chuckled. "Do we have more? There's so much more that if we tried to photograph all of it the pictures would stack up half way to the moon. That's why it wouldn't be possible to consult from here. You have to see it for yourself."

That sucked the joy right out of the room. While, yeah, it was the opportunity of a lifetime, and there were no challenges on Earth that could compare to what he might find out there, he honestly didn't think he could go. Los Angeles was his home, or more specifically, the university and the house he shared with his father. Helping students learn, working with Larry and Amita and helping Don with cases kept him in contact with the world.

He loved his father and brother, but more than that, he needed them. Charlie might be an adult, a professor at a prestigious university and a government consultant, but his family kept him from becoming too lost inside his own head. He tried to imagine what it would be like to submerge himself in this project without the support system he'd built around himself. Thinking about it, Charlie realized for the first time just how much responsibility he let other people take for his well being. He knew that on his own, with a challenge of this kind, he could literally work himself to death.

Was the risk of isolation and burn-out worth it? On the other hand, how could he not go?

"Look, I can't decide this now. I need to talk to my father and my brother, get their opinions."

Sam looked sympathetic. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. Everyone who went on the Atlantis expedition or even works for Stargate Command has left people behind without being able to tell them where they were going or what they were doing. It's painful, but necessary due to the top secret nature of the program. We will make arrangements with the university for you to be given a leave of absence, but you won't be able to tell anyone what it's about."

Charlie shook his head. "Then I guess I can't go. I'm not trying to be difficult, but you don't understand the situation. I really, really need to talk to them about this."

"But Charlie, we really need you on this project."

He shrugged. "I'm sorry." And he was sorry. He wanted to go, but wasn't going to be pushed into it. He wasn't willing to lose his family for anything, especially now that his mother was gone and Don was there.

Dr. Carter thought for a minute. "Your brother is an FBI agent, right?"

"Yes. He has security clearance. Not as high as mine, but high enough. You can trust him."

She leaned forward. "How about this? I'll make some calls and see if I can get authorization to tell your brother. Maybe we can work out a compromise, but I can guarantee it won't be extended to your dad.

"I know how you feel, Charlie," she went on. "My own father was dying and I couldn't tell him what I was doing. It's a long story how that worked out, but I do understand. Would talking to one of them be enough?"

He thought about it. He would hate to keep secrets from his dad, but of the two it was Don's opinion he needed most on this. And he could just imagine the look on Don's face.

"Yes, all right. If you could arrange that, it would be great."

As she started talking into her cell phone, Charlie thought over what he'd just learned. He felt like there was quicksand shifting under his feet. Whether he went or not his life would never be the same again.

~~**~~

 

Don was studying a wall covered in notes, pictures, maps, and other items related to his current case. He was studying it again, though he'd been over it a dozen times already. Sometimes looking at the relationships between the different elements would cause something to spark in his brain and he could make an intuitive leap that would knock them out of a stalemate. The visual approach worked for him, while for others of his team it was computer research, printed reports or, in Charlie's case, abstract conceptualization.

"Don?"

Think of the devil. Don turned his head briefly and said, "Oh, hey, Charlie," before returning his attention to the wall. He asked absently, "What's up?"

"Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you about something important. Well, actually, it'll probably take more than a minute."

"Is it about a case, because I'm kind of in the middle of..." He turned again and this time noticed the woman in the Air Force uniform standing behind his brother.

Charlie introduced her, "This is Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter. Sam, my brother Don Eppes." Charlie took a step forward and Don noticed a certain manic gleam in his brown eyes that sent up red flags.

The officer nodded and said, "Agent Eppes."

Charlie continued, "I know you're busy, but this is important." His eyes got even wider and he gestured with his hands in emphasis. "Really, really important. As in you've got to hear this and the sooner the better."

Observing the woman carefully, Don answered, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. We can talk in the office."

Don had a bad feeling, wondering what Charlie had gotten himself into this time. A lot of people approached his brother hoping to take advantage of his mind, but the Air Force? That was a new one.

When they'd settled into chairs in the glass enclosed office, Don behind the desk and the others facing him, Colonel Carter started, "Thank you for making the time to talk to us. The US Air Force has made a proposal to your brother and he insisted on speaking with you before giving us a response. This is highly confidential, and under your oath of office you won't be able to tell anyone what we discuss here."

Intriguing. "What's this about"?"

Charlie interjected, "You're not going to believe it. I mean you'll probably think this is crazy, but I'm convinced it's true. Colonel Carter has shown me some incontrovertible evidence. Keep an open mind."

Don cocked his head. "Right, because mine is usually closed."

His brother shrugged innocently, "I'm just saying..." and trailed off.

Carter asked, "Agent Eppes, do you know anything about wormhole physics?"

~~**~~

 

Don said very little as the woman recounted what sounded like a paranoid fantasy, Charlie nodding as she told her story and watching Don expectantly.

When she finished, Don asked, "Colonel Carter, do you have any identification?"

Briefly startled, she said, "Oh, yes," and dug a business card and Air Force ID out of her briefcase.

Taking them and looking them over, Don said, "Just a moment, please," and left the room, closing the office door behind him.

"David," he called. The serious black agent strolled over, checking out Charlie and the guest in Don's office.

"What's going on? Charlie come up with another brilliant idea?"

"Something like that. Look, David, would you run this for me? Find out if Lt. Colonel Carter is on the up and up. It isn't for a case, but it's pretty important."

"Sure, I'll see what I can find."

"Thanks a lot. Just knock when you have something."

Handing over the ID, Don returned to his office. He nodded to the blonde woman and said mildly, "I hope you don't mind if I verify a few things. I'm trained to be thorough."

Carter smiled in amusement. "I don't mind, but they won't find very much. I'll be listed as working in deep space telemetry at the Cheyenne Mountain N.O.R.A.D. base. Everyone with the SGC has a similar cover story. If you need further proof I can give you the number for the base and you can speak to my commanding officer, General Landry."

Don leaned back in his chair. "I may do that, but for now let's assume that your story is true."

Charlie insisted, "It is, Don. She's shown me photos and documentation that support everything she's said."

Focusing on the colonel, Don said, "Assuming that it's true, am I to understand that you want to take Charlie to this Atlantis?"

She nodded. "That's right. His assistance could mean the difference between life and death for a lot of people."

At this point Don was drawing heavily on his professional facade to cover the alarm that was growing in him. If it was true, actually true, they wanted to put Charlie right in the middle of an alien war. Going to see Star Wars in the theater was one thing. Charlie in that kind of insane position was another.

His brother was speaking, "It's pretty incredible, but I told Sam I couldn't commit to anything without talking to you. I wanted to tell Dad, too, but we could only get clearance for you. It's a big decision, and I'm not sure I can be objective enough to make it alone."

Don shot Charlie a surprised look and the younger man went on seriously, "You may think I'm innocent and sheltered, and that may be true in some ways, but I'm a realist about my own abilities. I can do this, Don. I can break this code and find the Lost Colony. But at what cost to me? Not only do I love you and Dad, but I need you, too, to be there for me when I get too wrapped up in the numbers. I really want to go, but I'm afraid of what it could mean for me to do this alone. What do you think?"

A man didn't end up a senior agent of the Los Angeles FBI field office by giving in to panic. Don swallowed and willed his heart to stop pounding so loudly. He said, "I don't think you should go. It's bad enough that you put yourself on the line helping me, but this is too much. I don't want you in that kind of danger."

Now Colonel Carter leaned forward, suddenly hard as nails. "Agent Eppes, I understand your concerns, but this is important not only for national security, but for the world, too. I know you understand the call of duty. I can't say that Atlantis is safe, but neither is crossing the street. They sent me to talk to Dr. Eppes because I'm a scientist, but if necessary the President will make the request in person. We need your brother. Don't stand in his way."

He could hear that. Don totally understood why they wanted Charlie, and it was important, but in that moment Don was a brother, not a government agent. It was hard-wired into his system; the number one priority was to protect Charlie.

Don studied Charlie's face, and the turmoil was easy to read in those large eyes. Charlie had never backed down from an intellectual challenge, in fact he thrived on them. Yet he had just given Don unprecedented influence over him. Don was fairly sure that if he insisted, his brother would tell them no, even the President. But was that the right thing to do?

He asked, "You really want to go?"

Charlie nodded, curls bouncing on his shoulders and puppy dog eyes in full force. "I do. I think I have to."

Don heard his own voice say, "Then I'll go with you."

That wasn't what he'd intended to say, and it surprised him.

Charlie's face lit up. "You will?"

Carter interjected, "Agent Eppes, that won't be possible. This is a highly selective mission."

In the back of Don's mind his job, his responsibilities and his father were all clamoring for attention. And yeah, it was crazy to think about walking away from his career, but these people wanted to take his little brother to another galaxy. Not without him, they fucking wouldn't.

"Colonel Carter, that's the deal. You want Charlie, you'll have to take me too."

Charlie spoke up, "Sam, it'll be perfect. If Don is really willing to do this," and he looked at Don with concern, "that's my condition for going. He knows how I work, what I need. And it's not like he'd be a drain or anything. He's a federal agent! It's not so much to ask. You can fix this, Sam, I know you can."

The poor woman didn't stand a chance once the puppy dog eyes were trained on her, but she put up a good fight.

"It isn't that easy." She addressed Don, "This isn't the kind of thing you can decide just like that. You don't know what you're getting into."

"No, I don't," he agreed, "but neither does Charlie, and you want him to be ready to go when?"

"In two days," she admitted with some chagrin.

"I'm not letting Charlie go into something that dangerous without me there to watch his back. Just consider that this math genius comes with his own bodyguard."

Carter smiled and Don knew he'd won.

She said, "There are over a hundred scientists on Atlantis now, and none of them have their own bodyguards."

"Well, this one does."

While the Colonel got out her cell phone and Charlie beamed, happier than Don had seen him since their mother died, Don started to plan. He'd have to see what David found, though he was pretty sure it was all legitimate. They'd have to come up with some cover story. He wouldn't be able to follow through on the case they'd been working on- he'd put David in charge until the Assistant Director could decide how to replace him. Both of them would have to arrange power of attorney for their father. His apartment, packing, Charlie would need equipment, there were a million things.

And if he kept busy enough, maybe he wouldn't have to think about what they were doing.

~~**~~

 

Sheppard found McKay just where he expected at that time of the morning, in the main lab hunched over his laptop. He tapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Hey, you in there?"

"Hmm?" McKay looked up. "Oh, it's you. What do you want?"

John rocked back on his heels happily. "Only to tell you that the Daedalus is here. They'll be beaming the special guests down in a few minutes." The rest of the new arrivals would disembark when the ship landed. "Thought you might like to be there to greet them."

Rodney's face lit up. "They're here? Excellent!" He closed his laptop and jumped to his feet. "What are we waiting for?"

As they walked toward the 'gate room, John reflected on Rodney's behavior. It wasn't exactly normal for him to be excited about other scientists coming to what he considered 'his' city, or to be excited about other people in general. It seemed like people mostly existed to be targets for McKay's verbal abuse. He thought that this Eppes guy must be pretty special to get this kind of reception from Rodney.

John himself was curious, as much about the brother as about the scientist. He'd been warned that the elder Eppes had practically blackmailed his way onto the ship. Also, he was a FeeBee. John hadn't met many agents personally, but he'd watched TV and seen movies. The guy could end up being a hard-assed G-man, or even worse, a star-struck alien fanatic like Fox Mulder. Even though he hadn't met the man yet, John felt uneasy about him, just knowing that he hadn't been purposefully selected for the mission like everyone else.

They entered the 'gate room and Rodney looked around expectantly. On cue, a white light shimmered in the center of the open space, and when it faded two men in civilian dress were standing there.

John assessed them quickly. Both had dark brown eyes, but the physical resemblance didn't go much farther. The taller one had short, dark hair that was almost as artfully tousled as John's own. The smaller one had a striking mop of black curls. It was easy to tell which one was the Fed – the taller one had the physical strength and the serious demeanor, while the other was inspecting the room with avid scientific interest. They were both younger than John had expected.

Rodney stepped forward and addressed the long-haired man, bouncing on the balls of his feet in pleasure. "Dr. Eppes, welcome to Atlantis."

The man beamed, "Dr. McKay! This is so," he struggled to find an appropriate adjective, "astonishing!"

Rodney beamed back. "Yes, yes it is, isn't it?"

John was evidently not the only curious one, because Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon joined the greeting committee.

Rodney introduced them. "This is Dr. Weir, head of the expedition. And Lt. Colonel Sheppard, head of the military contingent. And Teyla Emmagen and Ronon Dex. They're aliens." When his teammates favored Rodney with their half amused, half pissed off glares, he amended, "And highly valuable allies."

Dr. Eppes said, "And this is my brother, Special Agent Don Eppes." He said the full title and name with pride, but his wide eyes were fixed on Ronon. After a moment he blurted, "Wow, you're really big."

Ronon leaned forward and smiled down at him, an expression that could be taken any number of ways. "Or maybe you're just really small."

Agent Eppes put his hand on his brother's back. "Nice to meet you all. This happened pretty fast for us, and it's a lot to take in. We'll probably be gawking like tourists for a while."

John was sure Agent Eppes was excited too, because, who wouldn't be? But John could see that it didn't stop him from threat-assessing both the strangers and the surroundings. John liked that about him.

Elizabeth said, "I'd like to welcome you to Atlantis, Dr. and Agent Eppes. We appreciate that you could make the trip on such short notice."

The mathematician said, "Actually, I don't think I can thank you enough for inviting us. This is literally the opportunity of a lifetime. And everybody calls me Charlie."

The woman nodded graciously. "Charlie, then," she said, and turned to Rodney. "Will you show our newcomers around and help them get settled? We'll have a briefing at fourteen o'clock."

"Right!" Rodney grabbed Charlie's arm and led him toward the hall, chattering a mile a minute. "We have a 29 hour diurnal cycle here, so the clock has changed to accommodate. That sounds like fourteen hundred hours, or two o'clock, but actually it's just before 'noon' our time. I can get your laptop set up with the new system right away. You did bring a laptop, didn't you? Because if you didn't, we have plenty to spare. And you're going to love the terminals that interface with Atlantis' mainframe. And wait till I show you..."

The others watched them walk away. John caught Agent Eppes' glance and the man raised an interrogatory eyebrow. Noting a glimmer of humor in the dark eyes, John shrugged and grinned back. He asked, "Shall we join them?"

Eppes answered, "Oh, I think we'd better."

Following after the other pair, they fell into step. John barely knew the guy, but he had a feeling that they were going to be able to work together.

~~*~~

 

Don looked around with interest as they walked through the halls, but wondered how long it would take to learn his way around. If there was some kind of coded system for knowing which corridor you were in, then Charlie would figure it out in no time. If not, then Don would probably have to navigate for both of them for a while. Though his brother did seem to be well attended at the moment.

He smiled, watching the two scientists bond over torrents of incomprehensible jargon. Beside him, Lt. Colonel Sheppard commented wryly, "Looks like a match made in heaven. We may have to interrupt them at some point so they'll get a chance to breathe."

Don nodded resignedly. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm here for." When he got an odd look in response, he explained. "Charlie is brilliant, a true genius, and I'm not just saying that because he's my brother. He thinks at a level I can barely follow on a good day. But he can get distracted by what's in his head and totally forget the basics, like the need to eat or sleep. That's why I insisted on coming with him, to make sure he takes care of himself." That, and to get between Charlie and any bug-eyed monsters that might be lurking around.

Sheppard's face was carefully neutral, but Don got the impression that he was slightly incredulous. "So you," John drawled, "the FBI agent, are here as a glorified babysitter?"

Don cringed. Over the past twenty days he'd come to the conclusion that that's exactly what he was, and he wasn't very happy about it. Not that he regretted his decision. It was just that looking after Charlie was hardly going to be a full-time job, especially not on Atlantis, which seemed very orderly and controlled.

The Air Force officer seemed to sense his discomfort and said, "Don't worry, there'll be plenty to keep you busy. Never a dull moment around here."

"So I gather. I got a chance to read over some of the mission reports on the trip out. Charlie and that grey Roswell alien really hit it off, so I had a lot of time to kill."

Sheppard smirked, "Hermiod." He made the word sound like it had two or three extra syllables.

"Yeah," Don agreed, "the little naked guy. Charlie learned the Asgard language, their mathematical philosophy and the basics of operating their technology. I got to read up on life-force sucking aliens, hostile humans from other planets, lethal insects, and all kinds of potentially fatal hazards."

They had entered a computer lab, and McKay was introducing Charlie to a group of extremely ordinary looking geeks.

Sheppard said, "Oh, it's not that bad. You get used to it. Before you know it, Atlantis will seem like the only home you've ever had."

Don didn't think so. He couldn't forget their father's face when they'd told him that they were going away on an assignment, and they couldn't tell him where or what they would be doing, or when they would be back. That communication would be almost impossible, so he shouldn't expect to hear from them often.

At first their dad had squawked and argued, but then had fallen silent. He agreed to everything Don asked him to do to help, but he did it monosyllabically. Don could see his pain at being left, and so could Charlie, but Charlie dealt with it by talking nonstop and rushing around excitedly. It was up to Don to do the damage control.

He remembered the conversation:

The morning they were to leave, Don found his father in the kitchen, staring at the mugs inside the open cupboard. He watched for a minute, but the older man made no move to take one down.

Don said, "Dad?"

Startled, Alan turned. "Oh, Donny. I didn't see you there. Want some coffee? It sounds like you have a long trip ahead of you."

So now he was trying a false cheer approach. Probably wanting to make it easy on his sons in the end, no matter how his heart was breaking.

"Dad, I'm sorry about how all this is working out. You've gotta know that if I could tell you anything at all, I would."

"Oh, I understand. You're needed for something classified, top-secret, super important. I'll just wait here patiently, trying not to wonder what horrific danger you're in."

Don didn't have an answer for that, and looked down at the floor. It was, in fact, pretty much exactly what Alan was being asked to do.

"Don."

He met his father's eyes.

"It is dangerous, isn't it, what you'll be doing?"

Compelled to answer, Don said, "I won't lie to you and tell you it isn't. But that's why I'm going, to make sure nothing happens to Charlie. I'm just sorry I can't help you see how important this is. If I could, you would understand why we have to do it."

Alan approached him and put his hands on Don's shoulders. "I'm sure I would. As much as I hate this, I understand that you boys do what you believe is right. Don't you worry about your old man. Just promise me you'll come home. Both of you."

"I promise to do everything possible. And I'll write as often as I can."

His father turned back to the coffee machine. "I'll appreciate that. I know your brother won't get around to it." Pot in hand, he faced Don again. "I'm counting on you, Don, to look after him."

"I know you are, Dad."

Even here in this amazing place, the lost city of Atlantis, Don could feel their father's presence. That's where home was.

But he said, "I'm sure it'll be fine. Charlie will adapt quickly. If a little thing like a naked grey alien can't keep him from an intellectual discussion for more than a moment, there probably won't be much that will faze him."

Sheppard said, "You'll both be good additions to our little outpost amongst the stars, Agent Eppes."

"Thanks. And call me Don."

"John."

They turned back to watch the bustle of activity in the lab. At the very least Don suspected Sheppard was right, dull moments would be rare.

~~*~~

Rodney was glowing with pride as he showed Dr. Eppes around Atlantis. He felt as though he were personally responsible for each and every wonder they saw. He also enjoyed emphasizing that he was in charge of almost two hundred scientists and that he could make them scurry or cry, or both, at will.

Technically, Charlie was under his authority, too, but Rodney didn't see it that way. The mathematician was more like a consultant than an employee, and one Rodney was particularly pleased to have lured into his project. It helped that Charlie dealt with numbers and ideas, and would be less likely to break priceless artifacts or challenge his analysis of their inner workings. He was a resource Rodney could use when it suited him, and the rest of the time Charlie would be quietly working on his own project. Perfect.

Eventually he showed Charlie to the room that would be his lab. It was filled with chalk boards, white boards, tables large enough to spread massive amounts of folders out on, and computer equipment.

"I assume you brought some things with you on the Daedalus. We'll have them moved in here, and then you can tell me what else you might need," he promised Charlie.

"This looks pretty complete, Dr. McKay."

"Please, call me Rodney. I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to have a peer here when I'm accustomed to being surrounded by incompetent stooges."

The colonel, who had been lounging in the doorway with the other Eppes, said, "I'll be sure to tell Zelenka that's what you think of him. He probably won't feel the need to get even at all."

Rodney sighed with exasperation. "Oh, all right. I suppose he's competent enough, as long as I don't leave him unsupervised for too long."

Charlie asked, "That's the Czech engineer, right?"

"Yes! Very good. You're catching on quickly. I knew you would," Rodney said approvingly.

Sheppard interrupted again, "Why don't we show them where they'll be staying and let them settle in a bit before the briefing."

"Right!" Rodney agreed brightly. "Let's do that."

As he hustled out the door and down the hall, Sheppard caught up to him while Charlie fell back to walk with his brother. Rodney glared, but Sheppard was undaunted.

"Okay, McKay. What gives? I've never seen you be so, well, nice to anyone before. It's unnatural and frankly a little scary."

Rodney huffed. "What do you mean? I'm nice to lots of people." The raised-eyebrow response was quite eloquent. "I am. I'm nice to... that time with... I can be nice." His voice trailed off a bit at the end.

They had come outside onto a balcony, and the brothers were leaning over the railing laughing with pleasure at their first external view of the ocean and the city that would be their new home.

Sheppard wouldn't let the issue go. "What's so special about this guy?"

Rodney observed the colonel for a moment, then decided he might as well tell him. Sheppard would hound him until he did.

"He's a genius."

"Yeah, Rodney, you told us that."

Rodney sighed. "Look, when I talk to anyone here, I have to dumb it down to their level."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Because we're all thick as planks."

"I didn't say that, but compared to me, pretty much. You're not really dumb, I know that. But there's a lot that goes on inside my head that I can't talk about with anyone else here. There are places my mind goes that not even Radek can follow. You have no idea what that's like. Sometimes it gets," he hated to admit it, but it was the truth, "lonely. Charlie Eppes may actually be able to converse at that level. It's very," he swallowed down a surge of emotion, "exciting."

Sheppard looked at him thoughtfully. "I guess I can see that. We joke about you being a genius all the time, and I guess we forget that it's actually true and what that means for you." He grinned and asked, "So all that screaming at people about how stupid they are isn't just blowing off steam after all?"

"Well, it is, mostly," Rodney admitted. "But Charlie works with mathematical theory at a level few people in the world can match, and he knows a lot about physics, too. If I can talk to him about some of my theories, he may be able to help me see if I'm totally on the wrong track, or if I really am on the road to the Nobel, like I think I am. It may seem like I don't want other people's opinions, but I just don't want to hear pointless drivel that has nothing to do with what's important. Having someone here who can really understand is a wonderful opportunity. It can be both a reality check and propel me further along in my work. Those of us with exceptional minds need each other to reach our potential."

John nodded. "Okay. But I still say you're acting like a pod person. He's here for a while, you know. He won't disappear if you're your usual grouchy self."

Rodney thought about it and yeah, maybe he was going a little overboard. It was how he felt, though.

"I'm sure I'll get over it," he told Sheppard. "It's just the novelty."

Don and Charlie approached them and the younger man said exuberantly, "Rodney, it's so beautiful! Your city is so beautiful. Have you calculated the ratios of the towers' sizes and distance from each other? If my estimation is right, they are extremely elegant, mathematically."

"Yes!" Rodney exploded in relief at hearing Charlie's insight, then glanced at Sheppard with embarrassment for gushing again. He said more calmly, "Yes, I'll look forward to comparing notes on that. Your rooms are just down the hall. You want to see them?"

"Okay," Charlie agreed.

They had set up a suite of rooms for the brothers. Each had his own bedroom, but shared a living area, bath and small kitchen. Their bags were already sitting inside the door.

Don and Charlie looked around at the luxurious furniture with obvious approval. Even the FBI guy had relaxed. He looked almost pleasant when he smiled.

Charlie grinned and said to Rodney, "I'm really glad we came."

Rodney grinned back. "I am, too."

~~*~~

 

The briefing lasted quite a while, discussing the logistics of Charlie's code breaking project. He would spend some time settling in and getting to know the Ancient mathematical theory available through the database. Then he would start making trips to the planet with the code, and they would see how he wanted to progress from there.

Don thought it sounded good. He was impressed with the professionalism of the people he had met on Atlantis and liked the sincerity of their interest in Charlie and his project. In Los Angeles Don had found that he enjoyed working full time with a team, and this seemed to be a really big, really well-integrated team. He supposed that the imminent death thing might have something to do with it.

Now if they would only stop calling him Agent Eppes. It felt inappropriate to him when he was in no way serving as an FBI agent, but no matter how often he asked people to call him Don, they seemed reluctant. Nearly everyone there had either an academic or military title, and Don didn't fit into that anywhere. He hoped that with familiarity they would get used to using his first name. After all, it might take him a while to figure out what to call the others, too.

After the briefing, Dr. Weir asked Don to stay, and Dr. McKay offered to show Charlie the cafeteria. When they were alone, Dr. Weir clasped her hands together on the table top and addressed him seriously.

"Agent Eppes. Don," she corrected herself, clearly making an effort to respect his preference. "I've been giving some thought to your role here on Atlantis."

He wasn't surprised by that. He would have some concerns about someone thrust upon him in this situation, too. She would have no way of knowing what his agenda was.

So he was surprised to hear her say, "I think you may, in fact, be a godsend."

"I..." he began. "You do?"

"The idea came to me when I was looking over your file before you arrived. They sent it in one of the regular data bursts. And having met you, I'm convinced the idea's a good one."

"What is it?" he asked curiously.

"When we first came here," she explained, "we were just over a hundred people. Those numbers started dropping rapidly, I'm afraid. Even taking the Athosians into account, it was never an unmanageable number. Since we re-established contact with Earth and the Daedalus began making regular runs, though, our numbers have more than doubled. There are now nearly three hundred people in the city, and more arrive all the time, both refugees from other planets and new staff from Earth.

"It's gotten to the point where I can't manage all the personnel, treaty, trade, scientific, and strategic matters myself. I'd like you to be my Chief of Staff. I need someone to filter the daily issues that come up and pass on to me only the ones I need to deal with personally.

Don was stunned. "Dr. Weir, that's very flattering, but you barely know me. Shouldn't you ask someone who's more familiar with the workings of Atlantis and your own style of leadership?"

"It's true we've only just met, but I could see from your file that you have exactly the qualities and experience I'm looking for. You were Special Agent in Charge of the Albuquerque FBI office. You work well with others and easily gain their loyalty and trust. You handle yourself well under pressure, even under fire. Your status as an FBI agent will give you credibility with the military members of the expedition, and you also have experience working with scientists. The fact that you aren't military will be important to the civilians here. There are some people who, for all their scientific brilliance, have difficulty relating to the military mindset. That you belong to neither group yourself is actually a big advantage.

"You've also lost people you were responsible for." She paused, then added, "That, regrettably, is something we have in common and will probably face again. Having met you, I can tell that we'll get along well enough. Yes, you'll have a lot to learn at first, but I have no doubt that you'll manage just fine. You would be doing me a great favor if you would agree."

Don thought about it. Offhand it sounded like an ideal solution to him. He could be useful here in his own right, not only as Charlie's shadow. He did have some concerns, though.

"In principle, I'm inclined to say yes," he said, and her face brightened. "But there's one condition. While I am interested in the success of the program as a whole, my main responsibility has to be to Charlie. That's why I'm here in the first place. I would be willing to accept the position as long as it doesn't interfere with that. Specifically, it would have to be understood that any time he goes off-world, I'll be going with him. I'm afraid that would be non-negotiable. I don't know if that fits with your needs, though, to have an assistant who's only here part of the time."

"I understand your commitment to your brother's safety, and I think we could work around it. You might begin looking for someone who could act as your assistant and fill in when you can't be here. This mission has outgrown its old administrative structure, meaning me. It's time for us to expand in whatever way is needed."

"There's also the fact," Don cautioned, "that I've never had a strictly administrative job. I've always done field work no matter my other responsibilities. The time off world will be important to me in that sense, too, because I don't see myself being happy in a desk job."

"It works out well, then. But this is Atlantis." She smiled sardonically. "I think you'll find that even the concept of a desk job takes on a whole different meaning here. I'll set up a meeting for us with the department heads for tomorrow, and you can get started." She extended her hand across the table and he shook it. "Welcome to the team, and thank you."

"I think I should be thanking you," he said. "I would have gone stir crazy with nothing to do."

Dr. Weir laughed. "You might want to hold off on your thanks. There's a rivalry brewing between the janitors and the kitchen staff that needs sorting out. That'll be your first job."

Mediation between the janitors and the kitchen staff. He'd rather tackle a nice, simple fraud case any day. Don hoped he was up to the challenge.

~~*~~

 

When they were finally alone in their quarters that night, Don and Charlie flopped down on the sofa side by side. Charlie's head was spinning with everything new he was learning, and they hadn't even been there a whole day yet. The silence of their sitting room distracted him briefly, before he became aware of the shushing sound of the ocean outside their window. His brain began to automatically calculate the intervals and the variations in intensity between waves.

Don had closed his eyes and leaned his head back, then let it flop to the side so he could peer at Charlie.

"So, another galaxy. Who'd have ever thought we'd end up somewhere like this?"

"Not me," Charlie agreed. "Though Larry might have. I wish he could be here too. He would love this."

"Yeah. Maybe he'll get here yet. You never know." After a pause Don said, "Hey, Charlie, it looks like I might be pretty busy after all. But I'm still gonna look after you, buddy. You come first, I want you to know that. Don't hesitate to tell me if you need something, or just want to hang out. I'm here for you, after all."

Part of Charlie thrilled to hear Don say that. He loved having his brother's attention and support. But part of him bristled, too.

"I know I didn't want to come without you, but I'm really not a child, Don. I don't need you following me around like a nanny."

"I'll try not to be intrusive, but that is why I came. To make sure you stay healthy. I won't interfere with your work unless I have to, but when I tell you enough, it's time to stop, I hope you'll listen to me. It sounds like this project you'll be working on is right up there with some of the toughest you've dealt with. You might get a little carried away."

"I appreciate that, and I'll try not to give you a hard time. But you have to understand, too, that sometimes in order to solve the problem I have to get a little carried away. Sometimes an interruption can set me back hours or days. I may not always be able to drop what I'm working on that easily."

Don nodded, then said with an affectionate smile, "We'll work it out. Just don't let that Dr. McKay monopolize all your time so you forget you have a brother."

Charlie laughed. "He has been coming on pretty strong, hasn't he?"

Don bumped his shoulder. "He just knows how lucky he is to have you here. As he should. I'm really proud of you, Charlie."

Happiness welled up in Charlie and he smiled shyly. Hearing Don say that was actually the best thing that had happened to him all day.

~~*~~

 

"Oh, thank god!" Rodney blurted.

John had to laugh at his teammate's histrionics, while Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

"Excuse me?" she asked pointedly.

"I've been dealing with all kinds of mundane matters that are far too trivial for me to waste time on, just out of generous consideration for your position, Elizabeth."

They all stared at Rodney.

"What? You think I'm utterly inconsiderate. I'll have you know I'm quite sensitive to the needs of others."

There were several snorts and eye rolls around the room in response, while Don Eppes watched with amusement.

"Well, thank you, Rodney for your thoughtfulness," Elizabeth said drolly.

"You're very welcome." He looked pleased with himself.

Then Elizabeth clarified, "John, Rodney, Carson, Teyla, and Colonel Caldwell will all have direct access to me at any time. You can tell Radek and Major Lorne that if they have something they feel is urgent then they're free to approach me, too. Otherwise, people should run things by Don first. That is not," she focused on Rodney, "a license to dump your own departmental issues on him."

John chuckled. "Not even the paperwork?"

"No, I'm the only one who gets to dump paperwork on him. Er, I mean," she mumbled, blushing.

As was her way, Teyla intervened. "Special Agent Eppes, we appreciate your willingness to assist us in the smooth running of our community."

Don said, "Thanks. It will take me a while to get up to speed, but I hope everyone will see me as a facilitator, not an obstacle. And call me Don, please."

Elizabeth resumed her professional demeanor. "I'd like Don to meet with each of you to go over staffing and departmental procedures. If that's all, we should get back to work."

On his way out of the room, Don was flanked by Rodney and Carson, each trying to get his attention.

"So, I was thinking about instituting a new schedule for the lab staff. There will be some consequences for power consumption levels that you should be aware of..."

"Lad, I didn't want to bother Elizabeth with it, but there are a few pieces of equipment we'll need to special order for a project of mine. If you can take a look at my requisition list..."

John just shook his head. The poor G-man had no idea what he was getting himself into.

~~*~~

 

The days flew by, and Don arrived at his quarters more deeply exhausted each night. Who knew there could be so many details involved in juggling the interests of the different departments? And lord, the paperwork was indeed intimidating. Still, it was definitely not dull, which was a good thing.

He was excited, too, about their first trip through the Stargate. It felt good to get geared up with the Kevlar vest and thigh holster. It was the first thing that had felt familiar since they arrived.

It didn't feel quite as good to get Charlie geared up the same way. Charlie had gone through a quick firearms lesson from Don and some basic hand-to-hand training from Sheppard, and he was looking like very much the little soldier. It was a reminder that there were more dangerous things to be concerned about out here than paper cuts.

Don saw how comfortable Dr. McKay was with the military paraphernalia and hoped it wouldn't become necessary for Charlie to reach that point. But Charlie's eyes were shining with an excitement that was infectious, so he didn't worry about it too much.

Charlie was having a great time, enjoying all the new things he was learning on Atlantis and also getting to know the other scientists. Don could see that it was an even more rarified environment than CalSci in terms of sheer intellectual prowess – like summer camp for geniuses. For maybe the first time in his life, Charlie fit right in.

It wasn't just the scientists, either. Charlie and Ronon had formed a tight friendship. An attraction of opposites thing, Don suspected, like seemed to work for Sheppard and McKay, too. Charlie was constantly surrounded by admirers, which helped set Don's mind at ease. It was a relief to know he wasn't the only one looking after his brother.

Now they stood in front of the Stargate – Don, Charlie and Sheppard's team. Don had traveled on a space ship for more than two weeks, crossing the void from one galaxy to another and, unbelievably enough, after the first couple of days it had stopped feeling strange and started feeling normal. Neither he nor Charlie had been through a wormhole yet, though, and that was a whole different thing.

The planet they were going to had been visited several times and the natives were apparently indifferent to visitors, so no trouble was expected. It was clearly no big deal to those who had done it before.

When the wormhole whooshed into existence, Charlie's eyes were wide with wonder, but Don saw a hint of fear there, too. Sheppard and McKay were talking as they walked into the wall of blue light, both interrupted mid sentence. It was comforting to see how casually they took it, but still. Don felt butterflies in his own stomach.

Emmagen and Dex were waiting patiently for the Eppes brothers to go through first, so Don reached over and took Charlie's hand in his.

"So, shall we do something extraordinary today, little brother, like travel to another planet through a wormhole?" Don asked, giving Charlie his most confident look. "Sound like fun to you?"

Charlie nodded quickly. "Yeah, it'll be great." His hand tightened around Don's.

"Okay, then. Let's go."

They took several steps forward, and after one last glance at each other, walked into the blue.

There was a momentary sensation of floating and then their feet landed on the stone paving in front of another Stargate on another world. Beside him, Charlie gasped with excitement and stared at their surroundings, which were mostly normal looking trees with the tops of some stone structures visible in the mid and far distances.

Don saw Sheppard and McKay watching them with amusement and dropped his brother's hand. He led the way across the clearing towards the other men and was aware of Charlie following, the other two team members coming through the circle, and the Stargate shutting down.

Stopping in front of the colonel and the scientist, he said, "So, here we are on..."

"CXR-289," Charlie supplied.

"Yes," Sheppard agreed, "or Torrens as it's known to the locals. The Memorial Hall is about a fifteen minute walk away."

As they made their way along the forest path, Charlie's excitement continued to grow. Don could see, though, that it had now changed to anticipation of a great mathematical challenge. This, clearly, was way better than birthdays and Chanukah combined.

When they entered the structure, which looked something like a Mayan temple, Charlie glanced around the chamber impatiently. "Where is it?"

"If you come this way, I'll take us through," McKay said.

The six of them stepped into a circular space delineated by eight ornately carved pillars. Once they were all standing close together, McKay waved a hand in the air and pronounced grandly, "Voila!"

From one blink of an eye to the next, the room around them changed. It was now bigger and lighter, with different frescoes decorating the walls.

Sheppard explained, "It's a transport device. We're now about a hundred yards beneath the surface. McKay's little magic show just means that the device can be mentally activated by people with the Ancient gene. Even a second-class artificial gene like McKay has."

The scientist made a face and Sheppard continued, "We've also found a stairway that people without the gene could take, but one section of it caved in a couple thousand years ago, so no one had been down here for a long time before we accidentally discovered the transporter."

Teyla volunteered, "Yes, we were most alarmed when Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay vanished from the chamber on our first visit. It was half an hour before they returned, and we feared they had fallen victim to a trap."

McKay defended himself, "I only thought, 'I want to get to wherever that interesting energy signature is coming from,' and poof. Then of course we had to look around once we ended up here."

Just like Charlie had already started looking around. He called to them from in front of an upright stone slab about eight feet tall, "This is the introduction tablet, right?"

Don moved to join him as McKay explained, "Yes. As you can see, it's written in Ancient, but it's the only thing that is. The hall itself is entirely in code."

His eyes scanning the carved letters, Charlie nodded. He had made a good start on learning written Ancient already, while Don had been busy juggling the work schedules of support staff that were often needed in more than one place at the same time.

"Where's the hall?" Charlie asked.

"Over here." Sheppard led them towards a set of twenty-foot-high doors. As they approached, the doors swung away from them, revealing a huge open space that shone with more gold than the most opulently decorated cathedral on Earth.

Charlie darted forward, then came to a sudden stop soon after entering. His eyes were fixed on the wall in front of him. Don could see why he was so fascinated. The first ten vertical feet of the tall wall were covered with the symbols they had seen in photos. Even hearing how big the room was didn't really prepare Don for the reality. Given the size of the markings, there must be millions, if not billions of individual symbols.

McKay was explaining, "We've only photographed and catalogued a small part of what's here. Even so, we've identified 314 distinct symbols, some of which are repeated and some of which aren't. We're guessing there will be thousands, all together."

Expecting a precise estimate, Don glanced at Charlie, whose eyes were glazed as they flitted around the wall, and whose face had gone slack. He had already entered the 'Charlie Zone'.

Don said, "Charlie?" He didn't get an answer, as he'd known he wouldn't. Charlie's eyes kept panning up and down, and he took an automatic step to the left to see more.

Ronon peered at Charlie, his eyes narrowed. "He all right?"

"Oh, yeah," Don answered. "This is Charlie in his element. That super-computer brain doing its thing."

Watching avidly, McKay asked, "Should we be quiet?"

"Nah. There's not much that can distract him when he's like this. Probably doesn't even know we're here."

Charlie took another step to the left and the group shifted forward to follow. After a few moments of silence where they all watched Charlie look at the wall, Sheppard asked, "Now what?"

Don shrugged. "Now we let him do his thing. It may be a while." Then he asked, "You said we were 100 yards underground, but the light in here is great. It's almost like natural sunlight. How does that work?"

McKay perked up at the opportunity to explain something, and as Charlie worked his way slowly along the wall, the others trailing along, he talked for some time about the recessed lighting that was apparently solar-powered, though he hadn't been able to locate the collector cells yet.

"And you notice how well preserved everything is," McKay went on.

"Yeah," Don answered, "no dust bunnies, no animal droppings, no deterioration at all that I can see."

Sheppard joined in, "The Ancients were good like that. We found Atlantis pretty much as it is now. Maybe in better shape considering the damage it's seen since we arrived. It isn't exactly stasis, but they have some way of preserving physical structures and their contents that comes close to that."

As they talked about Ancient architecture to fill the time, Don was keeping an eye on Charlie, noting his expression and posture. There were support columns scattered through the open space and Charlie was heading for one without noticing. Don stepped up behind his brother and gently moved him a couple of steps forward. Even though that meant he had to crane his neck farther to see the top symbols, Charlie didn't protest or even acknowledge Don's presence. After a few more slow steps to the left, bypassing the column, Don guided him backwards to his original distance.

Don saw the others watching with a combination of concern, wonder and indulgence, and raised his eyebrows at them. "What?"

Sheppard asked slowly, "Is he always like this?"

"No, of course not. You've seen that he's fairly normal most of the time. When he's working on a math problem, though, this is pretty much standard. I can't say I understand exactly what's going on in his mind, but I know that when this happens he literally forgets about everything else, including his own body. His entire existence is condensed to what his brain is doing. I don't think he can help it. That's one of the reasons we both wanted me to come along. Charlie takes some special handling."

"Huh," Sheppard said. "That's interesting. Our own resident genius is pretty darn easy to distract when he's working."

"Oh," McKay protested, "you just think that because I can concentrate on work and yell at you at the same time. It takes a miniscule portion of my intellectual resources to deal with all of you, leaving plenty of room for ongoing brilliant scientific discovery."

Teyla teased, "Of course, Dr. McKay, that's why you insisted Dr. Eppes come to Atlantis. Because this project was too simple to waste your valuable time on."

McKay frowned. "Oh, well, no."

"Actually," Sheppard said thoughtfully, "the way McKay is makes him perfect for Atlantis, where there's usually about a hundred things to do at the same time. If he were to get focused like this," he gestured toward Charlie, "he probably wouldn't live very long, and neither would we."

McKay beamed. "Yes, exactly. My extraordinary multi-tasking abilities. How very uncommonly perceptive of you, Colonel."

Don had come to enjoy watching McKay interact with his teammates. It was as though the other three orchestrated their efforts to take their scientist up and down the scale of human emotions, and McKay played right along.

At the moment, though, he was more concerned with Charlie. He noted that his sideways shuffles were becoming more sluggish and his eyes were watering. It showed that Charlie's body was already reaching its limits. With absolute concentration his brain was memorizing and processing thousands of pieces of data to the exclusion of everything else. It took a lot more energy than typing an article or working on equations.

Don stepped in front of Charlie, blocking his view of the wall. When Charlie leaned to look around him, Don leaned too.

"Charlie. That's enough for today. Time to stop now."

Charlie leaned the other way. Don continued to be an obstacle.

"Okay, Charlie. Come on back." His brother's eyes began to focus on Don's face, and he encouraged, "That's it, buddy. Look at me. Time to go home."

That got through, and Charlie's face scrunched in displeasure. "Don, I just started."

"It's been well over two hours. You were going to work with this a little at a time, remember, not do it all at once.

"But I can do more!"

"I'm sure, but we're not going to be stretching your limits. Even your brain can explode from too much input. Look how much you've done today." Don indicated the twenty yards of wall he'd worked past.

"That's hardly anything," Charlie complained.

"Look how much more there is to do." Don stepped behind his brother and physically turned him in a slow circle. "Look. It's the size of the Rose Bowl. You're going to have to take it in little chunks. We'll make lots of short trips."

Charlie's shoulders slumped slightly. "Oh. I guess you're right.

With his hands on Charlie's shoulders, Don felt him wobble slightly and leaned closer to ask softly, "You need to sit down for a while before we head back?"

Charlie, his eyes already starting to drift back toward the symbols, said, "No, we should just go. I have enough to start working with."

The others followed them back to the transport area in respectful silence. When they were on the surface again and walking back to the Stargate, McKay asked Charlie reverently, "Will you be able to break the code just by looking at it?"

"No," Charlie answered. "We have photos and videos of some of it, and we'll need to get more, but most of the initial processing will happen here." He tapped his head. "It will tell me what information is important to put into the computer and how to devise the equations that will give us the right outcome. Even I don't know exactly how it works, but it does. My brain sees patterns and makes connections on some intuitive level, and then leads me into the mathematical analysis."

After a pause, Sheppard said, "Cool."

Charlie shrugged, "I've always thought so. Some people find it annoying." He smiled up at Don.

Sometimes it scared Don when a force he couldn't begin to comprehend took over his brother's brain, but he'd had a long time to come to terms with it and accept Charlie as he was. Sometimes that force felt like an enemy that he had to compete with to keep from losing his brother. Don liked to think he was uniquely suited for the task.

Don allowed himself a smirk. "Oh, it isn't the math that's annoying. It's your personality. You're such a dweeb."

Charlie laughed and Don grinned at him. Yeah, being Charlie's brother could be a pain in the butt, but it made Don kind of special, too.

~~*~~

 

In between regularly scheduled crisis events, John was impressed with how well Don and Charlie were fitting into Atlantis life. It wasn't an easy posting and not everybody made it, especially the people who were drafted instead of volunteering.

Don had been a surprisingly quick study in relieving Elizabeth of some of the administrative burden. He had a way of listening to people so that they felt heard, even if a solution to their problem wasn't immediate. When necessary, he had no problem issuing stern reprimands, and people learned quickly that he wouldn't take any crap. He was also good at setting limits and redirecting issues to where they should really be handled, such as sending to John the Marines who were proposing a training course on some of the more obscure local weapons, and sending the botanists who wanted to pursue a joint study with the geologists to Rodney. John still got the impression that administration wasn't a job the FBI agent would have specifically wanted, but he took it seriously and applied himself 100%.

He also took his responsibilities to his brother seriously and could be found regularly dragging Charlie out of his lab to the mess hall or onto a balcony for air. As often as not, Don ended up dragging a good portion of the science section along with them. It made John realize that Charlie wasn't the only civilian on Atlantis that could benefit from having someone to look after their wellbeing. They weren't all as conscious of ensuring regular meals as Rodney was, nor did they all manage to exercise their bodies as often as they should. It gave John something to think about.

Don had quickly begun to join John and Ronon in their regular runs around the city. John was glad to have him along, especially when he noticed that Don didn't have the same opportunities for social contact that most people had. Being neither civilian, exactly, nor military, Don didn't have a built-in peer group. John had been happy to pick up some of that slack, but as time went on he saw Don getting to know more people. He was choosing friends carefully, strategically. Before long, instead of being excluded from both major social groups, he had become a bridge between the two. With John's help, they had also been creating stronger ties between the new arrivals and the 'originals'.

Charlie, as Don had predicted, really did spend most of his time submerged in his work. John had seen that sometimes, when he was busy manipulating equations on black or white boards, science personnel from various disciplines would wander in, stand and watch for a while, then wander out again without Charlie ever noticing they were there.

When he wasn't working, though, he got along well with his colleagues. John often found Charlie and Rodney with their heads together, talking about completely incomprehensible things. Some people, including John, might have been a little jealous of the attention Charlie seemed to attract so easily, if it weren't for the fact that Charlie was so open and genuinely interested in other people. He was too nice to dislike. Except, of course, for when someone made the mistake of questioning something in his work that he was sure was right. On those rare occasions he could be just as surly as Rodney.

Charlie's friendship with Ronon was a great source of entertainment for John. The unusually short scientist was teaching the unusually tall Satedan how to play basketball, of all things. When Don joined him to play two-on-one against Ronon, it was a surprisingly even match. Ronon physically dominated the court, but the brothers were quick and skillful. John wasn't the only one who tended to show up to watch the games.

All in all, it was a prosperous period for Atlantis, periodic run-ins with Wraith notwithstanding. By the time the Eppes brothers had been there four months, it was starting to feel more like a community than a military posting. While this wasn't all due to Don and Charlie, they were helping. Not to mention the fact that Elizabeth was looking more relaxed than she had since John had known her. Having someone to share some of the administrative responsibility with was doing her a world of good.

John just hoped it wasn't all too good to be true.

~~*~~

 

Charlie had been moving back and forth between two white boards for some time before he noticed that anyone was in the room with him, and then it was only because of a voice saying 'Charlie' in incrementally louder tones. Charlie blinked and looked around.

Colonel Sheppard, Rodney and Don were all sitting in a row on a table, swinging their legs. It had been Sheppard who was calling his name.

"Oh, hi. What's happening?" Charlie asked.

Sheppard said, "We're gonna go watch a movie. Wanna come?"

"Um," Charlie glanced at his work.

"Come on, Charlie. You've been at this long enough today," Don said.

The colonel cocked his head. "How's it going, by the way?"

Charlie didn't know how to answer that. "Um, right now, or in general?"

"Either one," Sheppard answered agreeably.

"Well, you want the short version, right?"

"Yeah, Charlie, we really do." Don was definite.

Charlie took a breath. He could explain it one way to Rodney, but would have to explain it a different way for the others. In simple terms like he did for the FBI team. Unfortunately, this problem was a good deal more complex than your average investigation.

"Of course you know that I'm trying to decrypt the code left by the Ancients."

There were nods all around.

"Well, there are a lot of different types of code, and first I have to identify what this is. I have to determine whether it is a cipher, a substitution of one letter for another letter or group of letters, or a more complex representation. Does the pattern refer to dates, astronomical positioning, geometric shapes, or algebraic equations? Or something else entirely?

"We start with the most basic options. When decoding something written in English, through Information Theory and a knowledge of the language, we know that some letters, combinations of letters and words recur more often or in certain combinations. That helps us calculate probability, assign letter values and test it to see if it gives us a result that makes sense. Given what we know of the Ancient language I've been able to eliminate this type of coding, so we have to look deeper.

"The solution to the puzzle depends on the assumptions we make about how the cryptographer organizes his or her data. What types of references are included or excluded? The more I study the glyphs, their arrangement on the two dimensional plane of the wall, as well as their relationship to each other in three dimensional space, the more I learn about the person who created the code. The better I understand the way that person thought, the closer I get to understanding their unique encryption technique.

"I'm currently working with a number of known coding methods to see how they each relate to the data."

Charlie tapped one of the equations he'd written on the board.

a2 = 1, b2 = 1, ba = ab:

"Ah," said Sheppard. "A Klein-4 group."

Charlie turned and looked at the laconic officer. His mouth may have been hanging open a little bit in shock.

Rodney on the other hand, was chortling with glee. "The colonel is a bit of a math whiz, himself. Hidden depths. Could have joined MENSA, you know."

Don groaned, "Oh, god, John. Not you too. Another genius?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Hey, I'm no genius, but I know a few things."

Charlie grinned. It always made him happy when a non-mathematician showed interest in and knowledge about what was the foundation of Charlie's own existence. He pointed to a table with six elements along the x and y axes and another equation below.

a3 = 1, b2 = 1, ba = a-1b:

"That's an S3 commutative group," Sheppard supplied promptly.

"That's right!" Charlie exclaimed. "So far, what I'm finding bears the most resemblance to this." He pointed to a third equation.

a4 = 1, b2 = 1, ba = a-1b:

It was correctly identified again. "A dihedral group."

Rodney poked Sheppard in the side enthusiastically. "And to think he gives the impression of having left his last brain cell in the pocket of a jacket he took to the cleaners and forgot to pick up before moving to another galaxy."

Sheppard grinned back at him. "Hey, I resemble that remark."

Charlie resumed talking. "Anyway, to say the code is more like a dihedral group than everything else I've tried so far doesn't really help much. It's just another piece of information that will go into the whole analysis. I'm still hoping that I'll be able to get far enough into the head of the person who created the cipher to find a way to reach the hidden information."

"You'll get it," Don assured him, "but not tonight. How about it? John has Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire."

Oh! Charlie had been looking forward to seeing that movie. "I suppose I could take a break. The work'll still be here tomorrow."

Sheppard affirmed, "That's the spirit," and Rodney added, "There's popcorn," as though Charlie needed more convincing.

He recapped his red marker. It didn't seem to want to leave his hand, but Charlie resolutely placed it on the whiteboard's tray. Don threw his arm around Charlie's shoulders and gave him a small shake as they left the lab.

Charlie loved his work - he lived for it, or lived through it, even - but he loved this, too. Feeling part of a human group, Klein-4 or otherwise. Being with people who liked him and wanted him around. It made his heart happy the same way numbers made his head happy. In general Charlie was feeling very happy these days.

~~*~~

 

It was time for another trip to study the Ancient code in situ, and Rodney went along with Charlie to collect Don. When they entered the Chief of Staff's office, they found four Marine non-com's in the middle of a shouting match with three electricians. Well, two of the electricians were shouting; the third, a woman, was curled into a ball in a chair crying. Don was alternately trying to calm the combatants and talk into his headset radio, calling Dr. Heightmeyer, Dr. Zelenka and Major Lorne to join them. Rodney was glad that he didn't have to deal with whatever this stupidity was the plebeians were engaged in.

Rodney and Charlie stood in the doorway watching the fracas. When Don saw them, he ducked out from between the warring groups and came over to them. Looking at their off-world gear, Don frowned.

"Damn," he said as he approached. "We're supposed to go to Torrens now, aren't we?"

Charlie answered, "Yeah, everyone's waiting."

Don looked at Charlie with that intense expression that brooked no argument. "I can't go now, Charlie. I'm in the middle of something."

Rodney couldn't help teasing the serious man. He said, "I can see that. Going to have to send the children to their separate corners until they can play nice again? Pudding restrictions, maybe?"

Don glared at him. "Something like that. Look, can we postpone the trip? Elizabeth's not back from the mainland yet and I can't leave until this is settled."

Charlie frowned. "I don't know that we can postpone it, Don."

"My team's scheduled to take part in some training exercises tomorrow," Rodney explained, "and so are most of the other experienced off-world teams. If we don't go now it could be five or six days before there's another chance."

The noise level in the room rose, not quite drowning out the sound of the Athosian clay pot that had been sitting on Don's desk hitting the floor. Don cringed, but didn't look back. He said, "I'm sorry, Charlie. We'll go as soon as possible, but not now."

"But Don," Charlie insisted, "I really need the next set of data. It'll put me way behind if I have to wait any longer. I can go with Colonel Sheppard and the others. I'll be okay without you this once."

Don shook his head. "You don't go off-world without me. That's the deal."

Rodney interjected, raising his voice to be heard over the cacophony, "Oh, please, Agent Eppes. I think we can get along without your supervision for a few hours. We have been doing this since before you even knew there was a Pegasus galaxy, and by now we're well aware of the care and feeding requirements of one Dr. Charles Eppes. Boy Scout's honor. We'll bring him back good as new."

At that point, Radek and Major Lorne pushed between them into the room, and the sound level rose yet another few decibels as the quarreling parties tried to make their cases to the newcomers.

Don visibly wavered, obviously torn between arguing with Charlie and getting back to his conflict resolution situation. Clearly sensing weakness, Charlie cajoled, "Please, Don."

Don looked at Charlie and threw his hands up. "Stop with the eyes already. Okay. Go on. But you be careful."

"Thanks! See you soon. Good luck with what you're doing." Charlie was already backing down the hallway as he spoke, as though he were afraid Don would change his mind.

Rodney grinned at the harassed administrator and held up a hand. "Scout's honor!" he assured.

Don looked at the hand. "That's the Vulcan salute, not the Scouts'."

"Whatever," Rodney chirped as he followed Charlie.

The quiet of the Gate room was welcome after the unfortunate scene in Don's office, and with no further delay the team filed through the Gate into another calm, sunny day on Torrens.

The mission was uneventful. Ronon and Teyla did some video taping while they kept Charlie from exploding his brain in the Memorial Hall, while Rodney inspected the antechamber looking for more of the solar-based technology, with Sheppard standing around kibitzing. Rodney was pleased to find that the transporter was connected to the same solar technology, which meant that it was capable of generating enough energy for more than just turning on the lights. It definitely had possibilities for replacing ZedPM power for a lot of mundane needs, which could extend the Ancient power source's life considerably while not monopolizing their limited supply of naquadah generators, either.

Quite a successful trip, all around, right until they transported up to the surface chamber. Then they were collectively hit by a stun weapon.

As Rodney dropped to the ground, he had time to think, 'Oh, shit. Agent Eppes is going to kill me.'

~~*~~

 

Don swallowed two Tylenol and leaned back in his chair. It had been a grueling afternoon. He resolved to look into exactly how much he was getting paid for this job, and ask for a raise.

While he was rubbing his eyes, he heard a tap on the door-frame. He looked over to see Elizabeth standing there with two mugs of coffee.

"Hi," she said. "I'm back. Heard you had some excitement today."

He motioned her forward. "Come in."

She stepped around the broken pottery shards, handed him a mug and settled into a chair.

Don asked, "You want to hear about it?"

Weir cocked her head. "Not unless you think I need to. Was it something important?"

"No, you know, it absolutely wasn't, except to the parties involved. I'll spare you the details. Kate is going to have her hands full, though."

"Well, I'm glad you were here to handle it."

Don shook off his fatigue. "So, how was your day on the mainland?"

"It was wonderful. Sorry I was late getting back. Halling and I made some real progress on the..."

At that moment the intercom blared, "Agent Eppes, report to the 'gate room. The team is dialing in from Torrens."

Don hauled himself out of the chair and set his coffee down reluctantly. As they left the office, Elizabeth asked, "You let them go without you?"

"Against my better judgment. But we've been six times before with no problem, so I couldn't really justify making a big deal out of it."

Within seconds they reached the control room. Sgt. Campbell said to Elizabeth, "We've received Colonel Sheppard's IDC, ma'am."

"Have them come through."

When Sheppard stepped onto Atlantis, he ran immediately up the stairs toward the control area. No one else followed him. Don's gut tightened with trepidation.

When he was close enough, Sheppard began without preamble, "We were ambushed and stunned. When we woke up, Rodney and Charlie were gone. One of the villagers saw the 'gate address they were taken to. I need a 'jumper, Lorne, Collins and their teams, and plenty of firepower. We're going to get them back."

Don's blood ran cold. John met his eyes and flinched, then repeated, "We're going to get them back. I'm sorry, Don."

Don didn't answer, nor did he listen to the questions Elizabeth began asking Sheppard. He turned around and walked straight to the armory. While he was fastening the P-90 strap around his neck, others came in and started gearing up for battle.

He found Sheppard initializing the 'jumper controls when he entered the bay. While Don stood stonily with emotions flaring under the surface, waiting for the rest of the extraction team, John said, "It wouldn't have made any difference if you'd been there. You would've been stunned, too."

Don still wasn't ready to speak. He was furious - at John, at himself, at Charlie. And he was scared. Charlie was out there, god knew where, in the hands of some obviously hostile aliens. It was exactly what he'd been afraid of. He had to get Charlie back; the alternative was unthinkable. He would do it or die trying.

The soldiers gave him a wide berth as they filed into the small ship. While he maneuvered the Puddlejumper into departure position, Sheppard called back, "Standard search and rescue. Try to hold your fire until we know the situation, but do what you have to. First priority is to extract Dr. McKay and Dr. Eppes. Understood?"

There was an enthusiastic shout of "Yes, sir!" from the assembled Marines.

Don was aware that he was with experienced troops who knew what they were doing. He hadn't done any exercises with them beyond some sparring in the gym, however, so it was hard for him to trust them. He was trying, though, because he needed their help to achieve his objective.

It was also hard not to be in charge of the operation. Don looked at Colonel Sheppard and noted the determination on his features. Sheppard's friend was missing, too, and Don had no doubt that he would do everything necessary to get him back.

Within moments they were through the 'gate and setting down on Torrens. When the back hatch opened, Teyla and Ronon strode aboard.

Sheppard barked, "What did you find out?"

The woman answered, "The men who attacked us visited the planet a couple of weeks ago, asking a lot of questions. The villagers said that they didn't speak to them, but clearly someone did. They surely know more than they are telling."

Ronon growled, "I could make them talk."

Sheppard said, "We don't have time for that. Anything else?"

Teyla continued, "Only that the villagers found the visitors to be quite coarse. They felt that they were not well intentioned. They did not ask the strangers about the planet they came from."

"Not a lot of help then," Sheppard complained. "It doesn't matter." He dialed the 'gate.

Don had met residents of Torrens on two occasions. They were simple people who shied away from contact with off-worlders. He wondered which of them had given up information about the Atlanteans; specifically about Charlie and Rodney. He wondered what they wanted with the mathematician and the physicist, but agreed with Sheppard that it didn't matter. Getting them back was the only thing that did.

They went through the Stargate cloaked and began to fly over a surprisingly sophisticated settlement. Sophisticated in the sense that the rectangular metal buildings looked more like mobile homes than the natural material constructs most Pegasus cultures favored. Don's curiosity won out over his anger and he leaned over Teyla in the co-pilot seat so that he could see what they were up against. The place had the same abandoned, run down look as so many of the trailer parks Don had seen in New Mexico.

Behind them, Major Lorne was looking at a readout screen. He said, "I'm not sure, but if I'm reading this right, what we're seeing is camouflage. It looks like there's an underground complex. I think there are some energy readings."

Sheppard grumbled, "He thinks. Rodney would be sure." Then he called back, "Can you tell where people are concentrated? Call up the life signs screen." Lorne hesitated and John shouted impatiently, "Just think it on!"

"Right." Lorne studied the screen.

Don moved back to look over his shoulder. There was a diagram of a series of tunnels with scattered white dots indicating people. He said to Sheppard, "There aren't many. About a hundred."

Ronon suggested, "Maybe they've been culled. Makes it easier for us."

It was an ugly thought, but Don agreed. He said, "There are three main branches. Two of them are more crowded."

"Can you see a way in?" Sheppard asked.

Don studied the diagram. He found what looked like a central entrance where they could get into all three of the radiating branches. He tapped the screen. "There."

"Show me," Sheppard ordered.

Major Lorne looked toward the front and a similar diagram popped up in hologram form in front of the pilot. There was a red circle around the entrance.

After he set the 'jumper down, Sheppard grabbed what looked like three palm pilots and fitted them into three slots in the console. After a moment he removed them and handed one each to Lorne and Collins. The diagram glowed in miniature on the screens.

"We'll split up," Sheppard said, then looked at Don. "Which do you like?"

Don had already decided and pointed to the one with the fewest life signs. "The greater concentrations of people are likely to be the living areas. Families, kitchens and such. If I were holding kidnapped scientists, I would keep them where there were fewer witnesses or distractions."

John nodded. "I agree. We'll take the passages to the left. Lorne, take the center. Collins to the right. Stay in contact. If you do encounter families, try not to engage."

They filed out of the 'jumper and approached a sheet-metal covered building.

Sheppard said, "We're going in."

~~*~~

 

After entering the building and descending the staircase hidden by a trap door, the three groups silently went their own ways. John led his team down a passage that connected to their chosen area.

While he was intimately familiar with Teyla and Ronon's styles, Don was an unknown element. He was glad Don had loosened up; since finding out his brother was missing, the man had been wound so tightly that he was dangerous. But John was now seeing a side of the FBI agent he hadn't previously, and it looked good. The man knew how to move, how to hold his weapon and his body, how to work as a team. The way he was sighting along his P-90 as he proceeded was textbook. John mentally slotted him into the 'competent, trust with back' category.

The passage was cold, damp and fairly dark, which worked in their favor. At a crossing, they heard voices down a side corridor and stopped. John motioned to Ronon, who disappeared into the dark entryway. The others waited silently, and Ronon returned within a minute, shaking his head. They continued on.

After passing a dozen rooms and corridors, they heard voices ahead of them. Proceeding stealthily, they reached the doorway. Motioning the others to stay back, John peeked through the open portal.

They'd found them. Rodney and Charlie were there, along with five other men. John pulled back and tapped his radio on.

"Lorne, Collins, we've found them. Fall back and secure egress. Wait for orders."

He heard quiet confirmations, then turned to his team. All three were poised for action.

John held up five fingers, then whispered, "We have the element of surprise. Shoot to kill, but be careful. They're close to our people."

The others nodded, and John held Don's gaze for a moment. The dark eyes were steady, and he tilted his head in acknowledgement of John's unspoken question. He was calm and ready. John motioned him to the other side of the doorway and Don slid over smoothly. With a signaled, "one, two, three," he and Don stepped in together, guns raised.

Charlie lay sprawled face up on the floor, naked, with a dirty, long-haired man standing between his spread legs holding a small device in his hands. Another stood at his head. Charlie looked unconscious.

Rodney, also naked, was on his knees. It appeared that two men were holding him upright, while another struck him across the face with the back of his hand. The hitter snarled, "Tell us!"

John said, "I don't think so," and fired. The hitter flew off to one side and the other two released Rodney, who fell forward onto the floor.

Don fired twice in rapid succession striking the two men near his brother, who dropped, one reaching for a weapon on the way.

Suddenly Teyla was beside John, and she fired simultaneously with him, each taking one of the two men who remained on their feet.

Then Ronon had a boot on the wrist of the one Don had shot, causing him to drop the stunner he had been in the process of raising. The large man bent and stuck a knife into the base of his throat. There was a choking gurgle and the man went still. Ronon looked up and grinned in satisfaction. John sometimes had mixed feelings about his teammate's violent nature, but at the moment he approved wholeheartedly.

Still holding his gun ready, Don moved farther into the room, inspecting the fallen enemies, and John did the same. As Don knelt by Charlie's side and touched his neck, John dropped beside Rodney and rolled him onto his back.

"McKay. Hey, Rodney, you hear me? You awake?"

Rodney made a face and tried to open his eyes.

John encouraged, "That's it. Time to get out of here. Can you stand?"

The blue eyes succeeded in opening, but didn't quite focus. The pupils were blown, indicating that drugs had probably been used. Rodney opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

John looked up and asked, "Eppes?"

Don answered, "He's out cold. I'll carry him."

"No. Ronon, get Charlie. Don, help me with Rodney. Teyla, take point."

Don hesitated, looking intently at Ronon for a moment, then nodded. Ronon picked Charlie up and threw him over his shoulder, holding him in place with one arm, leaving the other free for his weapon.

John pulled Rodney to a sitting position, then to his feet with Don's help. They each drew an arm over their shoulders, practically carrying Rodney between them. He was too big of a man for either of them to carry solo, and this way they had some defensive options.

"Move out," John ordered.

Following Teyla through the passage, they jogged as quickly as they could. Up ahead they heard raised voices and gunfire.

John tapped his headpiece again. "Report."

Lorne's voice came back, "We've been made, but I think we've managed to discourage them for the time being. Your ETA?"

"Two minutes," John answered. "Get the door open." As the major would know, that meant literally the trap door, but also securing a path to the hatch of the Puddlejumper.

Soon John and his group met the others, and they all proceeded up the stairs, Collins and his men forming a protective barrier at the rear. John, Don and Ronon hustled across the open space with their burdens, then they all piled into the ship. As the incapacitated scientists were lowered to the floor, Teyla was already unfolding silver emergency blankets to cover them.

John pushed through the crowded cabin to his pilot seat and initiated the flight sequence. They'd done it, gotten their men back alive, if not entirely healthy. He felt incredible relief as they rose from the ground and headed for the Stargate.

Glancing back briefly, John saw Teyla sitting on the floor with Rodney's head in her lap. Don sat beside Charlie, one hand on his brother's shoulder, looking dazed.

Quickly punching in the 'gate address and IDC code, John took them home.

~~*~~

 

Don was immediately shunted aside by medical personnel, who began taking readings from Charlie even as they moved him to a stretcher. He heard Dr. Beckett ask Sheppard, "What can you tell me?"

The colonel answered succinctly, "Drugged, definitely. Beaten, probably. They were naked and on a damp concrete floor."

"Do y'know what drug they were given?"

As Sheppard shook his head, Don dug a stoppered vial out of his vest pocket and handed it to the doctor. Everyone looked at him, and he shrugged, watching the medical team take his brother away. "It was on the ground. I don't know if it's what they used, but it might be."

Beckett said, "Thanks, that's a great help," and disappeared down the hall after the moving gurneys.

Sheppard clapped Don on the shoulder, startling him. "I know Beckett, and he won't let us anywhere near the infirmary for a while. We might as well get changed and debrief Elizabeth."

Don nodded, feeling slightly numb. The adrenaline was slipping away now, leaving only the fear. Charlie had been kidnapped and hurt, they didn't yet know how badly. The reality of exactly how far they were from a major medical facility was hitting home. Don had to trust the Atlantis personnel to take care of his brother.

Somehow, that wasn't very comforting. After all, his brother had trusted Don to take care of him, too, and look how that had turned out.

~~*~~

 

Just as John thought, a closed door and a muscular medic kept them from getting close to the rescued men. There was a small group already waiting outside the infirmary when John arrived.

"Any news yet?" he asked hopefully.

Radek answered, "Carson has just said that they're running tests. That is all."

Eppes was standing, staring at the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest looking dour. Teyla was sitting patiently, looking like she was there for the long haul. Next to her, Ronon managed to hover like a vulture even seated on a small plastic chair, looking like the need to hit someone hadn't quite worn off yet.

Elizabeth was standing on the far side of the waiting area with Radek and a couple of other scientists. John knew she was putting some distance between them at the moment and didn't approach her. Their diplomatic leader had been uncomfortable with the level of lethal force Sheppard's team had used to retrieve Rodney and Charlie. She had refrained from second-guessing them in the debriefing, but John knew her well enough to recognize the signs of internal conflict. He had seen them fairly often, unfortunately.

John himself didn't feel conflicted. As far as he was concerned those men had forfeited any consideration when they stunned him and took two of their most valuable people. Valuable to Atlantis and the mission, yes, but more than that, to John. John wasn't sure there was a limit to how many people he was willing to kill to get Rodney back, and Charlie had been entrusted to John's care and was his responsibility. When it had become clear that their captors had been abusing them, the strangers' fates were sealed.

John leaned against a wall, refining his casual, unconcerned posture, but he doubted he was fooling anyone. The two men about whom they were waiting to hear news meant too much to all of them.

After what seemed like forever, the door opened and Dr. Beckett himself came out. John was at the front of the newly energized group in an instant.

"Before you ask," Beckett preempted, "both our patients are stable and not in any immediate danger."

That was good news, but John wasn't ready to relax.

"However," the Scott continued, "they aren't entirely out of the woods yet. While they have been roughed up some, the physical damage is minimal; a few bruises and scrapes. The drug that was used on them, though, is another story."

"Were you able to analyze it?" Don asked.

Beckett sighed. "For the most part, yes. From the sample you gave us," he addressed Don, "and confirmed by blood tests, we know that the substance has a chemical structure similar to Sodium Thiopental, more commonly known as Sodium Pentothal. It is a barbiturate that acts on the receptors of the brain and spinal column to decrease neural activity. It also reduces the ability to resist, which is why it's used in interrogation.

"Administered intravenously," he continued, "it causes unconsciousness in less than a minute, but unless repeated doses are given, the patient should awaken within ten minutes or so. That doesn't seem to be happening in this case. The lads have shown no signs of waking."

"So you're saying it's close to Sodium Pentothal but not quite the same," Don clarified.

"Aye, and that's the problem. There is one additional molecule present in the chemical formula making it something entirely new to us. I'm quite optimistic that they'll come around on their own in a relatively short period of time, but without further study we honestly have no way of knowing what other effects the drug might have."

John frowned. "But that doesn't make sense. If they wanted to interrogate Rodney and Charlie, why give them something that was going to knock them out? Kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

The doctor shrugged and shook his head. "At this point we can only speculate. While humans in the Pegasus galaxy are genetically quite similar to humans from Earth, we have identified some significant differences."

Teyla's brow furrowed, and she shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm not talking about your wee variation, love, and we haven't completely mapped all of the divergences yet. It's possible that the drug didn't work the same way on Rodney and Charlie that it would on a local resident. Or it could have been the first part of a procedure that would have generated more response in the subjects. We don't know."

"Or they could just be complete morons," John suggested.

"Dead morons," Ronon contributed, looking smug.

Elizabeth ignored them and asked, "What's the bottom line, Carson? Are they going to be all right?"

"Like I said, I'm optimistic. But given the unknowns and the fact that this chemical affects the brain, I can't say for sure. We'll have to monitor them carefully. I expect to have a better idea of what we're dealing with in the morning."

"Carson," John asked, a lump in his throat. "Were there any other injuries? Ones we might not see at first glace?"

When the doctor realized what John was asking, he assured them, "If you're concerned about the possibility that they've been sexually assaulted, I can put your minds at ease. They've not been harmed in that way."

Now John felt the tension in his body release. That thought had been haunting him since they found their men naked. Stripping someone bare as an intimidation/interrogation technique was common. Sometimes it turned sexual, sometimes it didn't.

"Can I see him?" Don asked, then corrected himself. "Can we see them?"

"I can let you have a quick peek, but you can't all stay."

They filed silently into the infirmary and over to the two occupied beds. The patients were cleaned and dressed in green scrubs, and would have simply looked asleep if it weren't for their unnatural pallor, the machines scattered around them and the tubing that snaked down from hanging IV bags. Not much like sleeping at all, when John thought about it.

John hung back with the group when Don walked straight over to Charlie's side, looking down at his brother as though his heart were breaking.

Carson said quietly, "Instead of turning everyone out as I usually do, I'm actually going to ask someone to stay with each of them tonight. A nurse could do it, but it doesn't have to be a medical professional. I'm assuming Agent Eppes will stay with his brother, and for Rodney-"

"I'll stay," John interrupted.

The doctor smiled at him. "I thought you might, colonel. The rest of you can come back in the morning."

After the others reluctantly left, Beckett said to John and Don, "You're mostly here in case they wake up disoriented, which is highly likely. The monitors will warn us if anything is amiss, but you should call if they show any signs of distress. With a high dose of Sodium Thiopental we would watch for respiratory difficulties and nausea. In this case there could be other side effects as well."

John nodded. "We're on it. Why don't you get some rest, Carson."

"I'll do that. I have a feeling they'll need me more tomorrow than tonight. But I'll be on the cot in my office, so don't hesitate to wake me. Nurse Churchill will be just around the corner as well."

John was glad to be left alone with Rodney, or almost alone. He sank into the chair that had been placed beside the bed and studied his friend's face. He was pale and his broad mouth was slack and slightly open in sleep. There were a few mottled bruises along Rodney's cheek bones.

It always startled John how still McKay could be when very sick or injured, and this was no exception. McKay was supposed to have too much energy, talk too much and too loud, and drive everyone around him crazy. Rodney was nowhere near up to that at the moment, but John couldn't find it in himself to complain about the silence too much. At least he was back on Atlantis where he belonged, and alive. The rest would be made right with time.

~~*~~

 

Don was hungrily drinking in everything about Charlie; the mess of hair, the beak of a nose that advertised his ethnic heritage, the long lashes and olive skin. The steady rise and fall of his chest that proved he was still alive.

It was funny, Don reflected, that until recently he had gone a year or more at a time without seeing Charlie. Now he couldn't imagine that, and it wasn't just the current dangerous circumstances making him feel protective. Ever since Don had moved back to Los Angeles to look after the family during his mother's final illness, he and his brother had been gradually finding each other again and, he liked to think, becoming friends as adults in a way they never could have achieved as children.

The crap that had divided them before – Don's jealously and pain at constantly being overshadowed in the eyes of his parents, Charlie's cluelessness and tendency to withdraw into the numbers – was slowly being worked through. Don had been able to find his own strengths in service to the FBI, and Charlie was more aware of what was going on around him. They were able to meet each other as equals.

In fact, he thought they were actually bringing out the best in each other. Don found that he could mostly understand the explanations of the mathematical principles Charlie brought into play in investigations. That made Don feel better about himself, about the math and about Charlie.

At the same time, he thought that their father was right. A large part of the reason Charlie worked on cases for the FBI was to be closer to Don. And through that work, Charlie was drawn farther into the world. Don could see that it was becoming easier and easier for the younger man to connect with people, which was nice because Charlie had a lot more to give than just the numbers.

Don reached out to brush a dark curl off of Charlie's forehead and let his fingers linger on his brother's scalp. He whispered, "It's okay, Charlie. You're safe and you're going to be fine. I'm here, and I won't let anything happen to you." He cringed internally at the lie. Too late. He had already let something bad happen. But no more. "Just rest. I'll stay right beside you. Wake up whenever you're ready, buddy."

Don looked up to see Sheppard sitting beside McKay's still form. He had a hand resting on McKay's arm, and John's head was tipped back, eyes closed. It was really late, and it had been a day from hell, but Don couldn't rest.

Just then his stomach rumbled, reminding Don that he had missed dinner. There was no way he was going to go to the kitchen to look for something, but glancing around he spotted a small table with an electric kettle, mugs and drink fixings. Just what he needed.

Don filled the kettle from a nearby sink and spooned some instant coffee into a mug. There was a box of cookies there, too. Not Oreos, unfortunately. They looked like high-fiber health cookies and had a slightly gritty texture, but they tasted good.

Noticing John watching him from his place beside McKay, Don lifted his cookie in invitation. John nodded and stood, stretching the kinks out of his back. He walked over, dropped a tea bag into a mug, and joined Don in leaning against the edge of the table where they could still see their charges. After a moment the kettle switched off and Don filled both their mugs.

For several minutes they sipped and munched in silence. Don noticed Sheppard looking at Charlie and turned his own gaze to Rodney. Don had developed a kind of distant affection for the man. Rodney was loud and abrasive, arrogant to the point of caricature, but he obviously thought Charlie walked on water.

It seemed like most people who could truly understand the beauty of Charlie's mind were not as emotionally open and kept their admiration to themselves, where it sometimes turned to resentment. Larry being a notable exception. Don was coming to see the similarities between Rodney and Larry. Neither had any reservations about engaging in life.

Sheppard was just the opposite, going to great lengths to hide what he was feeling, and it made Don curious.

"So," he asked, "you and McKay. Are you together?"

Sheppard almost choked on his tea. "Uh, you mean like, together?"

"Yeah. A couple."

Setting down his mug, John straightened his back. "Now, first, you're not supposed to ask things like that. And second, no, we're not a couple."

Don shrugged, "I just wondered because you spend so much time together. And I'm not military. No big deal."

John looked at McKay contemplatively. "He's my best friend here, odd as that may seem. Best friend anywhere, maybe, that's still alive."

"I get the impression that this isn't the first time you've done a bedside vigil for him."

"No," Sheppard shook his head. "It isn't. He's had the pleasure of doing the waiting, too. I guess we have kind of an unspoken arrangement. Neither of us has anybody else, so we look after each other that way. It's nice to know that there'll be someone around who cares if you feel like crap. We can both get along on our own, have done it for a long time, but things are dicey enough here that you appreciate every little bit of support you can get."

"I can see that." Don was once again glad he'd come here with Charlie. He couldn't stand the thought of him being alone in this.

Sheppard spoke thoughtfully. "I don't have any family. Neither does Rodney; none that's done him any good. I'm a little envious of you and Charlie. It must be nice to have a brother."

Don considered that. "I guess it is."

John was observing Don with an odd look on his face.

"What?"

"You don't sound sure."

"Oh, I am. I wouldn't trade Charlie for anything in the world. It hasn't always been like that, though. He's my brother and I've always loved him, but we haven't exactly been there for each other. It's kind of a recent development. Now he's my best friend." Don hadn't really thought of it that way before. "Charlie and my dad are my two best friends. Not too long ago the thought of that might have embarrassed me, but now I'm glad. They're good people."

"You're close to your father, too?"

Don nodded. "We both are, but Charlie is especially. On Earth they still live together."

John chuckled. "How old is Charlie?"

"Thirty." Then Don insisted, "It's a good thing, really. I give Charlie a hard time about taking advantage of Dad, but I think Dad thrives on taking care of him, on being needed."

"Like father, like son, then." John's smile softened the observation.

Don figured he wasn't wrong. "Maybe. It has its down side, too. Now I think it would kill me to lose Charlie. And I worry about my dad being all alone with us gone. He hasn't been alone since he married Mom. The occasional email doesn't really do it."

"I can see there are trade offs, but I'm still envious. You're very lucky."

"Yeah, I am. You aren't doing too badly, though," he said, motioning towards Rodney.

John shrugged and nodded in acceptance. They fell silent then, but Don had the impression that there was more John wanted to say. After a few minutes he was proven right.

"I chose the military," John began abruptly. "I chose a life that would put me in danger. I've been injured and almost killed, and I don't mind that. I knew what I was getting into.

"Rodney, though, he chose to be a physicist. He should be working on theories in labs, not having to worry about violence and the possibility of sudden death. Things like today shouldn't happen to him, not ever.

"I don't want to devalue him and say that he can't handle it, because he's a lot tougher than people think. I just can't accept that I continually put him in dangerous situations where I can't protect him. Even though it's the right thing to do, it feels like the wrong thing. You know?"

"Oh, man," Don breathed, "do I ever." John looked at him questioningly. "I've been trying to come to terms with putting Charlie in danger for the last couple of years. His math stuff has helped us out in a lot of investigations, and he loves doing it, but it isn't always safe. I've had to place him under protection, and he even got shot at once. How wrong is that? He's like a national treasure or something.

"Nothing like this," he gestured towards Charlie, "has happened to him before, and I don't think I could take it if it happened again." There was some incipient panic working its way to the surface in Don. The image of Charlie lying on the ground, naked and vulnerable with big guys standing over him, and the thought of what more might have happened if the team hadn't gotten there when they did, was something he couldn't face head on. Not yet.

Don forced himself to continue talking. "I don't know how he's going to handle it, either. He hasn't been physically hurt before, but he has been emotionally hurt, and it was devastating to him. I don't know how to make it right."

"He has you. He'll make it."

"And Rodney has you. You and Ronon and Teyla."

"Yeah, he does. Charlie has us too, you know. And so do you. You aren't alone here."

Don felt something shift inside himself. In moments, in response to those simple words, he went from feeling like he was playing the role of someone who had gone to the city of Atlantis, to really being there. People here cared about both of them. That made them family, in a way. And when they became family it changed everything.

Don met Sheppard's gaze. There was a lot there in the colonel's eyes. He'd seen loss and soul-wrenching ugliness. He'd done what he had to do regardless of the consequences to himself. And despite everything, he was still there, not backing down. Don understood that, and he respected it.

A noise drew their attention and they looked over to see Rodney shift slightly. John was on his feet and over to the bed in seconds. Don moved back to Charlie's side, finding that his brother was still sleeping deeply.

Rodney shifted again, making a small whimpering sound.

"Hey, Rodney, you gonna wake up? Open your eyes. Can you do that?"

McKay's head rocked a couple of times, then his eyes blinked partially open.

"That's it," Sheppard praised. "How are you feeling?"

"Sh'pprd?"

"The one and only."

"Wha' 'append?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old. You got kidnapped, but we mounted a daring rescue and got you back. Now you're taking up space in the infirmary when you're going to be just fine."

McKay's face crumpled into a grimace.

"Hurts."

"What does?"

"Head."

"I'll get the nurse."

Don stood and said, "I'll get her." He left Sheppard and McKay murmuring softly to each other and walked around the corner. The night nurse was stacking some supplies onto a shelf.

"Rodney's awake," he told her.

The woman briskly took charge, moving Sheppard out of the way so she could question McKay herself and check monitors. After several minutes, Sheppard intervened, "He said his head hurt. Can you give him something?"

"I think you'll notice, colonel, that Dr. McKay is asleep again." It was true. The scientist had turned onto his side and curled up, but was snoring slightly. It was amazing how much better he looked than when he had been so unnaturally still – as Charlie still was.

The nurse went on, "Dr. Beckett doesn't want to give them any medications unless absolutely necessary because of the unknown interactions with the drugs they were given. If he wakes up again, just keep him calm and encourage him to go back to sleep. For now it's the best thing."

As she was leaving, Don asked, "Will Charlie wake up soon, too?" It felt like a stupid question, because how would she know, and he was surprised when there actually was an answer.

"There were slightly higher levels of the drug in Dr. Eppes' blood work. That combined with his smaller size may mean a longer recovery time. The fact that Dr. McKay has begun to come out of it is a good sign."

Don and John returned to their silent vigils. Don felt exhaustion pulling at him, but anticipation kept him alert. Charlie could wake up at any time.

When it finally happened, it didn't go as well as McKay's first emergence. From one moment to the next, Charlie opened his mouth and cried out in pain.

Don leaned over quickly and stroked his brother's cheek. "Charlie? Can you hear me?"

"Donny!" Charlie's voice was harsh in the quiet room.

"I'm here, buddy. Right here."

Charlie turned and flung an arm out toward him. Don sat on the side of the bed and pulled Charlie into his arms. The young man curled his body around Don's desperately.

"Donny, make them stop!"

"It's all over," Don tried to reassure him, feeling sick. "You're safe now."

"Make them stop," Charlie cried again, his eyes still closed. "I wasn't making fun of them. I was just trying to show them the right answer."

Don hugged him. It didn't sound like Charlie was talking about what had happened the day before. It sounded more like an incident that had taken place their senior year in high school. Some of the guys on the football team had taken offense when Charlie offered to help them with their homework and had picked a fight. Not much of a fight, really, mostly just pushing Charlie around.

At thirteen Charlie had been so much smaller than the older boys that he'd been deeply scared by the time Don had broken it up. Don wasn't surprised that Charlie was flashing on that incident now.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I made them stop. I'll always be here for you, little brother."

Charlie's body began to relax, and he said more quietly, "You're here, Donny."

Don leaned down and kissed Charlie on the temple. "Right here. Don't worry about anything."

Soon Charlie was asleep again, but Don kept holding him. He looked up and found Sheppard watching them, and they exchanged a look that was equally relieved and troubled. The ordeal wasn't over, but they were moving in the right direction.

~~*~~

 

Rodney's whole body hurt, from his head, down his back, and all the way to his toes. It took him a moment to realize that the pitiful moaning noise he was hearing was actually coming from him.

"Do you want some water?"

Cracking his eyes open, Rodney saw Don Eppes bending over him, a glass and straw in his hand. Rodney was just as surprised as the other man when he lunged forward and vomited over the side of the bed, all over Don's shoes.

When the heaves subsided, he groaned in misery. A cool, damp cloth wiped his face, and it felt heavenly.

Daring to open his eyes again, he asked, "Where's Sheppard?"

"Too much tea. He had to go to the bathroom. He'll be so sorry he missed this." There was gentle humor in the other man's voice.

Rodney tried to glare, but wasn't sure it was his best effort. Then he said, "Sorry, Agent Eppes."

"Given the circumstances, I think you could call me Don. You did throw up on me, after all. And no need to apologize."

"Wasn't apologizing for that. Was your own fault for not moving fast enough. Meant about Charlie." Alarm suddenly shot through him and he tried to sit up. "Charlie!"

Strong hands eased him back down. "Charlie's right here. He's going to be fine. And what happened was in no way your fault. Don't even think that."

"Scout's honor," Rodney protested. It made perfect sense to him.

He might have drifted to sleep for a while, because when he opened his eyes again John was there.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

"Not a good morning," he growled back.

Sheppard looked tired, but chipper. "Could be a lot worse. Next time you decide to go sightseeing with strangers, just don't, okay? You feeling better?"

Rodney took stock. There was still considerable discomfort, but it felt more like a bad flu than active torture. "Some," he admitted reluctantly.

"Can you tell me what happened? What did they want?"

He tried to remember, but images kept swimming from left to right and back again in his mind.

He grimaced. "It was, hmm, not sure. Something about wanting us to talk to the gods for them. Thought we had some kind of direct line to the Ancients. Got angry when we couldn't do it."

"Gee," Sheppard said acerbically, "they could have asked nicely."

"They were not nice people."

"So we gathered."

Rodney yawned and a hand patted his shoulder.

"You better get some more beauty sleep, McKay."

"Hmm."

Far be it from him to disobey an order.

~~*~~

 

Charlie woke up to find Ronon sitting beside him. The big man leaned down until his eyes were level with Charlie's.

"Midget."

"Behemoth."

"You okay?"

"I think so," Charlie tested his voice. He didn't feel right at all, but he did have a sense of safety.

Ronon explained conversationally, "Beckett made Don go shower and change. McKay threw up on him."

"Rodney?"

The other man looked across Charlie and pointed with his chin.

Charlie twisted around slowly, feeling his body protest, and saw Rodney asleep on the next bed. That was a relief, anyway. He was settling back into a relatively comfortable position when he heard Don's voice.

"Hey there, bro. It's good to see you."

When Charlie looked up, Don was beside Ronon. Don was holding a basin in his hands, looking ready to put it to use instantly, should the need arise. The little nausea Charlie was feeling didn't seem to be enough to warrant, though, which was good.

"Don. I knew you'd find us."

"Of course we did, Charlie. You're pretty important to all of us."

"We couldn't help them." Charlie felt bad. The men who had taken him and Rodney had seemed so desperate.

"Don't think about it," Don urged. "It's all over now."

"Maybe we can go back and do something for them."

"I don't think so."

Charlie looked more closely at Don, whose face was set and cold.

"What happened?"

Don and Ronon glanced at each other, and Don said, "We got you back. That's all that's important."

"They got what was coming to them," Ronon added.

Charlie felt his eyes fill with tears. "They thought we could help them protect their families. They were just superstitious. The Wraith had been there and they were suffering."

Don reached over and began stroking Charlie's hair. "Please, Charlie, don't worry about it. It's okay, really."

"It's not." Charlie's voice felt choked. "The Wraith. They're hurting so many people. We have to do something."

"And we will. That's what you're doing here, remember? If we can find those Ancients, maybe they can help everybody. But we can't control everything, Charlie. Things don't always work out like we want. You know that."

Charlie nodded sadly. He didn't want to upset Don. "Yeah. Okay."

Ronon stood up. "Take it easy, little guy. Maybe I'll let you beat me at basketball when you're better."

Charlie managed a smile. "You wish."

After Ronon left, Don continued to watch Charlie, concern evident on his face. Charlie tried to smile for him, too.

"I'm okay, Don. Really."

"We'll get through this together. I love you, Charlie."

That was never in doubt. "Me, too."

Charlie resolved that he would just have to work harder. There was nothing else he could do.

~~*~~

 

Rodney and Charlie recovered slowly but steadily. They suffered from head and body aches that were apparently much like meningitis. John had experienced that as a child and felt sorry for them. You couldn't even move without regretting it.

But as soon as they were able, both patients were back at work. For Rodney, this was just another in a series of unpleasant experiences, and he seemed to have no particular after affects. Charlie, however, kept saying he was fine and refusing to talk about what happened, but he was different. He didn't smile as much, didn't take time for recreation or entertainment, and fought anything that interfered with his work.

And now, when they had to go to Torrens, it wasn't just with Sheppard's team. They always took a second unit to stand guard topside. The lesson that safe is a relative concept had been well learned, and despite the lack of further problems, no one really felt comfortable on the peaceful planet anymore.

One night, two months after the incident, John was passing by Charlie's lab and heard raised voices. Sticking his head in, he found Don and Charlie facing off, both pairs of eyes narrowed stubbornly, both voices harsh. John withdrew to a balcony just down the hall, and a few minutes later Don joined him – brotherless.

John observed, "Charlie won this round, did he?"

Don sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah. There's only so much I can do, short of tying him up and carrying him home, and he's right. He's an adult and can make decisions for himself. It's just so damn frustrating!"

John nodded sympathetically. "It's hard to take care of someone who doesn't want your help."

Still agitated, Don answered, "You know, that's just it! If he had the smallest interest in taking care of himself it would be different. But no, Charlie thinks about everyone else first, when he thinks at all." John raised his eyebrows at the irritation in the other man's voice, but Don went on. "He takes on all the problems in the world, and thinks that because of his gift it's his responsibility to solve them, no matter what. He's dealing with being kidnapped and abused by feeling sorry for his captors, can you believe that?"

"Yeah, I can. Some people have big hearts that work that way. It's not necessarily a bad thing. It would be worse if he were completely self-centered and didn't care."

Don took a deep breath and huffed it out. His posture relaxing, he agreed, "You're right. It's just part of the package with Charlie. It's hard to argue with, though."

"I know. Rodney gives the impression of being totally oblivious to others, but he feels the responsibility to take care of everyone, too. He just spews out annoying chatter to distract people from noticing. In fact, there are a lot of people here who work too hard and take on too much. This place has a way of fostering the tendency."

"I guess that's not surprising."

"So is Charlie making progress at least?"

"I think so. He says so. At this rate he'll probably be done soon."

"That'd be cool. There are a few questions I'd like to ask those Ancients."

Like why a bunch of mere humans were driving themselves into the ground trying to find a way to protect the galaxy from the Wraith, while the super-advanced Ancients hid away in whatever hole they called home. If they could have done something and decided not to, then they would have a lot to answer for.

~~*~~

 

After one long circuit, the runners stopped for a rest. Don bent over with his hands on his knees for support as he wheezed. John had begged off of their usual run, and Don suspected that Ronon was pushing extra hard just to test Don's stamina. The big man was somewhat competitive, and Don wondered if it ever got boring to always win.

"You can go ahead if you want," Don offered. "I'm gonna take a minute here."

"That's all right." Ronon leaned against the catwalk railing. "I'll wait."

After catching his breath, Don said, "I've been meaning to thank you. For how you've been there for Charlie. When they were taken, but ever since we got here, really. It means a lot to me."

Ronon shrugged. "No need to thank me. He's one of mine now. It goes without saying."

"One of yours?"

"Yeah." Ronon was quiet for a moment, then continued, "You know my planet was destroyed, right?"

Don nodded. He'd heard the story in general terms.

"My people are all dead. Parents, brothers and sister, friends, everyone. And then I was a runner for seven years. Couldn't stay anywhere long enough to even talk to anyone. Until they brought me here. I was trained to be loyal, without reservations. Now I have people to be loyal to again."

"Everyone on Atlantis?" Don asked.

"Nah. My team, first. Sheppard, Teyla, McKay. Anyone touches or even threatens them, they'll be sorry. Then Beckett, Weir and a few others. Charlie, you. I'll do everything I can to protect them. The rest of the people here and the city, yeah, they matter, but when it comes down to it, I know what my priorities are."

Don could understand that in part. Back home he had loyalties to his family and his team, but for him his oath of service and responsibility to the overall good of American society sometimes conflicted. In the Pegasus Galaxy things were a little different.

"Do you believe in what we're doing here?" Don asked.

Ronon looked at him, his head cocked. "What do you mean?"

"Atlantis. The great hope to defeat the Wraith."

"Understand, Eppes. I admire you people from Earth. You're so fearless and optimistic. You believe anything's possible. It's cute. But you don't stand a chance of defeating the Wraith. Everyone in the galaxy knows it except you. They drove out the Ancestors, and you think a handful of humans will do better?"

"If you feel that way, why do you stay?"

"Because even though you'll lose, nobody else within living memory has been able to hurt or even annoy the Wraith. The Wraith may win, but they'll know they've been challenged. I like being part of that. Besides, the food is good."

"And," Don noted, "you've got people here now."

Ronon gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I've got people."

"And a man gets tired of running."

"That's the truth." Ronon stood and started jogging in place. "How about another lap?"

"I'm good to go."

There's running, and then there's running.

~~*~~

 

Rodney was excited. After nearly a year, Charlie was finally ready to unveil his findings on the code. Charlie had been very closed-mouthed about his work for the last couple of weeks, so Rodney didn't have a clue what was coming. Not only was he looking forward to some brilliant math, but it should be entertaining, too. Charlie was a good showman. There was a sizable group of scientists and others in the meeting room waiting for him to start.

Sure enough, Charlie had a PowerPoint presentation ready. The mathematician looked calm, but his eyes sparkled.

"So what have you got for us?" Don asked.

"No less than the location of the Lost Colony." Charlie looked very pleased with himself.

The colonel prompted, "Don't keep us in suspense. Where is it?"

"First of all," Charlie began, "I'll show you how I found it. In very simplified terms, of course."

"Of course," Elizabeth agreed. "Those of us in the social sciences appreciate your consideration."

"Okay, first of all, what helped me break the code was the Atlantis mainframe computer."

"So," Rodney interrupted, "It was worth it to move all of our projects off for you to have complete access."

"Yes," Charlie agreed, "but not necessarily in the way you might think. It wasn't the computer's processing power that was useful so much as the computer's processing style. Let me explain. Most of you have probably been using personal computers since they first came on the market, so I'll assume some basic knowledge, and some of you have possibly been involved in the evolution of computing technology itself."

The slide on the screen showed a series of PC terminals of different ages and sizes.

"Think of the early PC's. They were slow and limited compared to what we commonly use today, and have steadily been improving. You should all be familiar with how operating systems have upgraded – Windows 95 is superseded by Windows 2000, which is replaced by Windows XP, etc."

Heads nodded all around.

"Computer processors have undergone a similar progression. The jump from single processors to hyper-threading technology, or HT, was one such evolutionary step. HT technology supports the concurrent execution of multiple separate instruction streams, which are called threads of execution, on a single physical processor. This basically means that they can work on more than one thing at a time.

"Simply put, hyper-threading allows for a single physical processor to appear to the operating system as two logical processors. The operating system doesn't know the difference and feeds threads to each as if they were indeed separate physical processors."

Charlie moved his presentation to the next slide.

"This is an example of an HT-enabled system that has two physical processors. The logical processors shown as shaded are the ones that are utilized by the operating system."

(slide diagram)

"In this example, the operating system will attempt to utilize the first two logical processors, that is, one from each of the physical processors."

The next slide came up on the screen.

"This shows an example of a Standard Server running on a system that has two HT processors."

(slide diagram)

"The Standard Server will attempt to utilize all four logical processors."

"Uh, Charlie," Don said. He made an exaggerated confused face and waved his hand for his brother to move along.

Rodney was impatient, too, but it was because he knew all this already and wanted to get to the good stuff.

"Too much detail?" Charlie asked.

Don nodded apologetically.

"Okay, we'll skip forward."

Charlie flicked through several slides and then stopped.

"Now, this is an example of a four-processor system that has two active threads."

(slide diagram)

"Basically, there can, in theory, be any number of processors being used in any order. The order can be random, or it can be determined by a preset pattern.

"Think of it as a series of parallel one-way streets as seen from above. Sometimes the traffic will alternate in direction from one to the next, sometimes two or three streets will go the same way before the next one flows the opposite direction."

Rodney could visualize little cars zooming up and down at fast-forward speeds, arrows making the direction of traffic on each street obvious.

Charlie went on, "The cars don't go whatever way they want to. The pattern has been planned out in advance.

"Now, let's go back to the code from the Memorial Hall. Needing to have some basis for developing a decoding algorithm, I had been reviewing various decryption techniques looking for the best match. When I started working with the Ancient database, I found it somewhat by accident. I worked out the algorithm used in the multi-threading pattern of the processors, and coincidentally," Charlie paused for a moment to smile happily, "when I applied that algorithm to the code, it fit perfectly. The pattern the Ancient database uses to process data threads is the same pattern that governs the Memorial Hall data.

"It made sense, really. The person who developed the code was probably intimately familiar with their computer technology. It may have been subconscious on his or her part to incorporate this algorithm into the code, or it may have been deliberate. I predict we'll find that this same algorithm appears in other areas of their science and mathematics, much like the modern mathematics of western cultures on Earth are base 10. This pattern was part of the Ancients' basic conceptual understanding of math.

"Then I processed the data using the algorithm that I had identified. The quantity of data was daunting, and at first I was very careful to make sure it was entered exactly so that no errors would be made. As I went on processing the data through the algorithm, using the same algorithm as a secondary pattern as well, I was able to determine and predict what data sets were important and which weren't. That helped speed things up considerably."

"So what did you find?" Sheppard asked.

"It wasn't a substitution cipher." Charlie explained. "The symbols we needed were there all the time; it was just a matter of narrowing them down. After running the data set through one complete series of the program, the code was reduced to a third of the original. I ran that through again with the same algorithm, and got a smaller result. After repeating that process several times, six symbols remained. See if you recognize them."

The slide changed, displaying the six symbols Charlie had mentioned. Rodney's breath caught. He did recognize them. They were on the DHD.

"It's a 'gate address," Rodney said.

Charlie nodded and grinned. "That's right. That's where you'll find the Lost Colony."

Sgt. Campbell tapped excitedly on his tablet computer, then looked up. "It isn't in our database."

Elizabeth leaned forward. "Charlie, that's amazing. Out of all those thousands of symbols you came up with just six."

"Yes," Charlie said. "These specific symbols were on the wall multiple times, as were others identical or similar to 'gate address glyphs. It wasn't until the analysis was complete that I could be sure which were correct and in what order."

"So," Sheppard said brightly, "shall we go a'visiting?"

Rodney stood up. "I'll get my equipment."

"Hold on," Elizabeth interrupted. "Once the remote sensors have checked it out, your team will have a go. I don't need to remind you of the importance of making a good impression on these people, do I?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "They'll be plenty impressed, I assure you."

"I'm going too," Charlie said, drawing all eyes to him.

"You don't need to," Sheppard cautioned. "Especially when we don't know what we'll find."

"First," Charlie responded evenly, "I figured it out so I get to go. Second, I think you'll want me there when you do meet the Ancients. The code was set up so that their location would only be revealed to someone who could decipher it and pass the test. Which was me. They may have questions about how that was done."

Elizabeth looked at Don, who tilted his head in Charlie's direction. "I'd say he certainly deserves it. I'm not going to say no."

"If that's settled, can we go now?" Rodney pleaded.

"The 'gate room in half an hour," Sheppard said.

"Good!" Rodney was aware of people congratulating Charlie on his success and made a note to shower accolades on the younger man later, but first things first. He had to get ready to go meet the Lost Colony of Ancients. He already had pages of questions to ask them all written out, and he refused to consider that they might not be willing to answer. They had to. So much depended on Rodney being able to find answers, and he needed their insights to do it.

~~*~~

 

The MALP sent back images of rocks and scrubby plants, but from its vantage point in what looked like a depression, there wasn't much its viewfinder could see. There was no sign of anything hostile, though, so there was no reason not to go.

Charlie was keyed up about this. It was going to be the culmination of all his work. It is where he would get the pay-off for the hours and months he'd put into breaking the code.

He stepped through the Stargate along with Don and Sheppard's team. Initially, there wasn't much to look at. The rocks the remote device had seen were stones fallen from a wall that had once surrounded the 'gate area. Now it wasn't much more than a pile of rubble about two feet high.

There was a gap in the wall to one side, and the group headed through it, following McKay, who was bent over a handheld monitor.

Sheppard inquired, "McKay?"

Rodney waved a hand in the air like he was brushing away an insect. "Just a minute."

Charlie looked around at the scenery. It was dry with some scrappy, tenacious vegetation, not unlike a lot of southern California. In the distance there were structural ruins, and not much else. Charlie had expected something more like Atlantis, and this wasn't it.

Sheppard asked again, "McKay? Which way?"

Rodney tore his eyes away from the readout and looked up at them, his face desolate. "I, there's..." He swallowed with some effort. "There's nothing."

Don asked, "What do you mean, nothing?"

"Nothing as in nothing. No energy readings, very little residual radiation to indicate there was ever a civilization here. Nothing."

Teyla speculated, "You said that they had been hiding themselves to prevent discovery. Could they be employing cloaking technology?"

"Right, because I wouldn't have thought to check for that," Rodney snapped. "Even cloaking technology gives off detectable wave emissions if you know what frequency to look for. I've scanned for all known Ancient signatures. Nada. Zip. Zilch."

"Well," the colonel said reasonably, "Maybe they've advanced to using something we haven't encountered yet."

Rodney looked at him with hope creeping back into his eyes. "Do you think so?"

"Could be. Why don't we at least go over to those ruins and take a look."

The group was quiet as they filed over the uneven ground, except for occasional murmurs from McKay trying to coax a response out of his scanner. Charlie was distracted by the novelty of being on yet another planet, but there was a feeling of worry growing in his chest. He'd worked so hard to solve the riddle. It was supposed to mean something. It was supposed to be a great breakthrough in the struggle to defeat the Wraith.

When they got to the outskirts of the developed area, Sheppard asked, "Anything?"

Radiating misery, Rodney shook his head.

They began making their way through the half-fallen structures. Occasionally, decorative designs were visible on still intact walls, along with smatterings of script Charlie recognized as Ancient. Rodney squatted to look at one patch of writing.

"Can you read it?" Sheppard asked.

"Yes," Rodney snarled, "it's a fucking poem about butterflies in the fucking garden." He picked up a rock, stood and hurled it at the wall.

Ronon's voice rumbled a warning, "McKay."

Rodney turned on him. "What? I'm supposed to respectfully preserve the insipid drivel of people who are obviously long gone?"

"Yes, you should respect it," Ronon stated. "This was a settlement of the Ancestors."

"Well, la dee friggin' da. Excuse me if I'm not overwhelmed with devotion. Your beloved Ancestors just led us on one hell of a wild goose chase." He turned toward Charlie. "Are you sure you got the right address?"

The force of Rodney's ire directed at him startled Charlie. Through his own disappointment Charlie found enough voice to say, "There's always some margin of error, but yes, I'm sure."

McKay's shoulders slumped. "Yes, sorry, of course you are. This isn't your fault. It's mine. I was the one who insisted it was worthwhile to follow through with it."

"This isn't your fault, McKay," Sheppard assured him. "We all agreed."

Now Rodney's voice wavered so that it was hard for Charlie to hear. "It's just that I was so sure that this time it was going to be worth it. This time we would find something that would make a difference." Then he plaintively asked the group, "It's our turn to have something go right, isn't it? We're the good guys, aren't we?"

Charlie saw Ronon give Don a 'see what I mean' look, which he didn't understand. It was Sheppard again who answered Rodney's distress.

"I wish it worked that way. But I don't think we should to give up yet. There may be something here that tells us where the Ancients went. We've barely started to look."

Teyla nodded. "That is true. Why would they go to all the trouble of constructing such an impressive chamber to house the code, if they were simply going to move on?"

"Maybe," Don suggested, "after a couple thousand years they just forgot about it."

"Or maybe," Sheppard stressed, "they left a forwarding address somewhere here."

Rodney argued, "But they didn't even preserve the structures. They always did that."

Charlie thought he knew the answer. "Or maybe they decided to ascend after all, and then the rest of us didn't matter to them any more."

No one had a response to that, and they contemplated the situation silently for a minute. Then Sheppard straightened his shoulders and proclaimed, "Okay. I don't think there's any need for us to stay longer today. This looks like a project for the archaeologists and the anthropologists. Maybe they can make sense out of it."

Everyone agreed, and they began to trudge back toward the 'gate. Charlie maneuvered himself to walk beside Rodney. He tried to comfort his dejected friend.

"It was worth it, Rodney, even if we never find the Lost Colony. We learned a lot in the process – about the Ancients, about the mainframe on Atlantis. Don't feel bad."

"You're taking this so well," Rodney complained quietly. "How can you do that, you of all people?"

Charlie shrugged. "I don't think it's quite sunk in yet. But I was focused on the process of breaking the code, and I did that. Sometimes an achievement like that has to be its own reward."

Charlie lifted a hand to rub Rodney's back. It was a little too soon for him to take in the letdown he was feeling. There was sort of a desolate hole where his pride and anticipation had been.

Scenes from the last several months flashed through his mind. Moments of discovery in his project, sleepless nights, confrontations with Don, the beauty of the elegant Ancient database, the anger of men he couldn't help, playing basketball with Ronon--whose whole planet was destroyed by the Wraith. In the end, what did it all mean? Charlie wondered if he had just wasted a year of his life.

A nice set of equations in need of solving would help him feel better. Sometimes the purity of the numbers was enough.

~~*~~

 

By the time they walked back through the 'gate, Rodney had gotten a hold of himself. What was one more failure? They'd already had more than a few, and they were still there. It just meant that the answer to defeating the Wraith lay elsewhere. He would keep looking.

Elizabeth and several others were hanging over the command area railing expectantly. Rodney saw John look up and shake his head no. Elizabeth looked briefly disappointed, then seemed to accept the news.

"All right," she said, "we'll debrief in thirty minutes. You've all done a good job with this."

To Rodney's left, Don put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Charlie blinked up at Don, pulling on a smile by sheer force of will. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just a little discouraged."

It was some small consolation to Rodney to know that Charlie wasn't able to brush it off so easily after all. Rodney wasn't the only one to have invested a lot in this, and he didn't want to be the only one who would suffer for the failure. Not that he wanted Charlie to suffer, but when in misery, Rodney liked to have company.

Then it occurred to him that now that the project was over, Charlie had no reason to stay. That, maybe, was something Rodney could do something about. He actually perked up a bit at the thought. The first order of business would be to start making sure bits of research that involved higher math found their way into the young genius' line of sight. Like bread crumbs to lead him further into Atlantis. Then the city could do the rest.

~~*~~

 

Several days after the fruitless trip to the Ancients' planet, Charlie was sharing a table with Don, Elizabeth, Rodney and John. They'd finished dinner but were lingering over coffee.

Elizabeth said to him, "I'm sorry that you had to work so hard for so little reward."

"The work itself was very rewarding," Charlie answered philosophically. He could say this honestly now. "The whole experience has been. I just wish it had led to something that would help."

"You know, if you wanted," she said carefully, "you could stay here. There's still more that you could do."

"That's right," Rodney said more boldly. "You've seen the important work going on here. If you stay we'll be able to progress much faster. It could save all our lives."

Sheppard elbowed him in the ribs and scolded, "Rodney. We agreed not to pressure them."

"Why? You want them to stay, too. I know you do. And Elizabeth is about ready to get down on her knees and beg Don not to go. Why beat around the bush?"

Charlie grinned and shared a look with Don, who said, "Actually, we've been talking about it. Charlie and I are thinking we'd like to stay a while longer."

John's smile lit his whole face. "That's great!"

Elizabeth looked faint with relief.

"Oh, good," Rodney said. "Now I won't have to worry about anyone blowing up the Daedalus to keep you from leaving."

"In fact," Don went on, "we have some ideas on how things could be organized even better."

"Oh?" Elizabeth asked brightly, "What are they? We're all ears."

Don made his presentation. "Well, the population of Atlantis keeps growing and we're spreading out more all the time. Issues are coming up that are outside of any of our experience. Social and physical factors, like where to locate new living areas to maximize safety and comfort while making the best use of our resources. How and where supplies should be distributed. Water and sewage monitoring. It isn't just a matter of hooking up a pipe, there are peak demand times that need to be taken into account in order to avoid problems. We might want to start thinking ahead about amenities like recreation areas, rather than having rooms end up being used by default, even if they aren't suitable. Environmental mitigation measures for Atlantis and the mainland. The specific needs of refugees. We should keep in mind that some day, when more children live here, we'll need classroom areas. Big picture things like that."

"That's a good point," John said. "We've just been smooshing ourselves around in the city without any kind of planning. That could get out of hand."

"Exactly!" Charlie agreed.

With a knowing smile, Elizabeth asked, "What did you have in mind as a solution to this?"

Don said confidently, "I think what we need is a city planner. Someone who has experience managing an urban area like Los Angeles, for example. After dealing with the complexities there, Atlantis would be a piece of cake."

"And do you have someone in mind?"

"As a matter of fact, we do." Charlie said.

Don nodded. "His name is Alan Eppes."

Elizabeth's smile widened. "You want to bring your father here."

"He would be great at the job," Don assured her. "Why take a risk on someone we don't know?"

"I think that's a great idea," John agreed.

"Oh, wonderful," Rodney complained without any real heat. "Another Eppes. Why don't we just rename Atlantis 'Eppesville'?"

"Eppesville," Charlie grinned. "I do like the sound of that."

 

End


End file.
